


The Hawkeye and His Magician Chick

by Isys Luna Skeeter (IsysSkeeter)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Crossover, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:12:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsysSkeeter/pseuds/Isys%20Luna%20Skeeter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crossover. Clint is given a deal to have a person he loved but had never had the chance to confess to back, by going back in time. Clint accepts and in return he adopts a magical child. A Hawkeye adopts Harry fic. Future Clint Barton/Phil Coulson</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cover

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers:** HP (7 books), Iron Man (movies), Captain America The First Avenger (movie), Thor (movie I), The Avengers (movie). If you don't know the books or movies, go read and watch them!
> 
> **Beta:**  MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun
> 
> **Disclaimer:**  I have no right to any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee

****


	2. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one sided ClintB/PhilC
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:**  AU fanfiction, Crossover, Mention of Character Death
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  540
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Talking"
> 
>  
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
>  
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
>  
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Prologue**

4 May, 20 12

Clint Barton looked at the other male he was watching over. Loki, a demi god, had handcuffs on his hands to keep him from doing magic and was sitting on the bed looking at Clint amused. Clint sneered wanting so much to just grab his arrows and shoot the damn guy for killing Phil Coulson. Clint huffed and looked away from the dark haired murderer. It was horrible to think that it was partly his fault that Coulson had died. The man he had allowed himself to have a thing for… dead.

“Agent Barton…” Clint glared at the trickster. “What if I told you that I could give you another chance with Coulson, hmm? Would you take it?”

Clint was sure that if looks could kill Loki would be dead right now. How could the man dare to mention Coulson’s name after killing him?

“He’s dead.” He spat at the smirking, smug looking, demi-god, wanting nothing more but to slowly kill him.

A hint of a genuine smile appeared on Loki’s face.

“But if you could have him in your arms this time around, would you chance it?”

“What about it?” Clint hissed, trying to sound uninterested but something inside of him tensed at the prospect of being able to tell Coulson what he really felt. What game could Loki be playing at? Giving him such futile hopes like this?

Loki gave him a Cheshire smile in answer.

“If you ever decide to take up my offer for having a chance to fight for Coulson do warn me… and it might better be before the tin man and the doctor finds a way to help gullible, foolish Thor in sending me back to Asgard. After all… I do know a way to bring you two together… or to be more exact; give you a second chance.”

Clint frowned. A second chance? Did that mean return back in time? Would he do it? Have more time with Coulson and…

“What’s the catch?”

Loki stood and approached Clint, looked at him straight in the eye and offered his arms, showing the handcuffs.

“A child. You get your lover and take in a child. You win both by accepting… you lose both – and I too, since I’ll go to prison – if you refuse.”

“Let’s say I accept. All I have to do is take a kid in and you’ll give me a second chance?”

“I vow on my magic that that is all there is to it… and the fact that the child you will be rearing is magical.”

Clint frowned. Magic… he didn’t exactly trust magic but if that meant…

“What’s the kiddo’s name?”

“He goes by the name of Harry Potter and he lives with his non-magic family. They know he’s magical and mistreat him horribly for that – so technically you’ll be doing the boy a favour. He lives in the land that was once known as Albion, though now you Midgardians call it England.”

Clint looked down at the handcuffs, then up at Loki whom raised his wrists as if presenting a gift. Clint reluctantly released him, hoping that he wasn’t doing something stupid. Loki smirked evilly, put his hand over Clint’s heart and everything went black.

**(TBC)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi
> 
> Was talking with MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun on Facebook Messages and was thinking of a Clint Phil fic I could write when suddenly I found myself typing directly to her Loki’s proposal… and I couldn’t stop myself from writing it xp
> 
> Next: Meeting Harry…
> 
> ~Isys


	3. Chapter I  –The Dursleys–

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:**  MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun
> 
>  **Disclaimer:**  I have no right to any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one sided ClintB/PhilC, PetuniaD/VernonD
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:**  AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  2.441
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Talking"
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Chapter I**

**–The Dursleys–**

4 May, 1988

Clint woke with a groan, his whole body hurt and his belly felt like he was ready to throw up at any given moment. Then he felt a strong kick hit his hip. Clint opened his eyes and looked to the person who dared to assault him only to stop mid-way into his retaliating attack. Charles Bernard “Barney” Barton, his older brother, was right there looking down at him with a sneer.

“This is no time to sleep. Wake up!”

Clint nodded numbly and stood, not quite believing whom was before him. It had been years since he had last seen Barney. Clint looked around and there he was in the Carson Carnival of Traveling Wonders. He was back. Clint gasped when his Brother hit him in the back of the head.

“Hurry up, boy! We have work to do.”

Clint hissed to himself, but followed. For now he had to play around. He needed to learn at what point in time he was, in regards to his former ‘criminal family’ and how to ditch them as quickly as possible. For that he needed money before he could get a laptop and start to look into finding his future child… a boy. His boy. He was really going to adopt a boy! Wining a son would make him have a second chance with Coulson, how could he refuse that?

“Hey, you’re paid to work, not to sleep!”

“I’m going!” Clint hollered back, before running to his auto caravan, which was exactly as he remembered, quickly changed his clothes and scampered to the tent for his show.

**–CH–**

5 May, 1988

Clint looked at the newspaper not quite believing the date. He was 17, sure he was back to the carnival but he hadn’t expected to be so young! He had to wait years to meet Coulson again. He would have to become a thief again to win SHIELD’s interest AGAIN! Clint bit the bottom of his lips. He would have to do it anyway. But first things first. Clint drove to the airport and looked up the plate tickets to London. He had to get Harry first.

Clint knew that when he would return to America he would have to be careful because of his Brother, but for now he had stolen all the money his brother had on him and that he had found in the Swordsman and Trickshot’s stashes. First he had to go get Harry, then he could worry on how to raise him. If Natasha was there she would know how to help him… Clint only hoped that Harry was already alive… and that there weren’t that many Harry Potter’s in England.

When Clint finally left the plane he couldn’t help but miss SHIELD’s airplanes, even Stark’s Iron Man suit right now would came in handy. Heading up to the London public library he requested to use the library’s computer, posing as a high school student. It helped that he didn’t have any baggage except for a shoulder bag. It wasn’t difficult for him with SHIELD’s training and the fact that internet wasn’t as protected as it was in the future – although it was so slow! – to find all the Harry Potters around. He focused on the ones under 11 and immediately found one that seems the most likely, since he lived in Surrey who lived with his Aunt and Uncle. His parents had apparently died in a car accident, though he wasn’t absolutely sure it was an accident, his instincts telling him that there was more to this than appeared. From what he managed to find out the boy was a troublemaker. If this boy was really whom Loki wanted him to adopt then he wasn’t a troublemaker but an abused child. And Clint knew all about that. Clint printed the boy’s address and picture and left the library. After that he caught a lift in a lorry, the man was nice enough to find him another lorry-driver who would drive by the town he needed.

Privet Drive was the kind of town where Clint used to dream to live in as a child but as he had grown up he quickly learnt that the perfection that the people showed was only a front to their true personalities. Clint stopped in front of the 4 Privet Drive to look at the house. He couldn’t enter just yet, he had to make sure this boy had magic first. He had to…

Clint gasped as a body collided against him. Clint looked to the side ready to snap when he saw a skinny boy with black hair, with the brightest green eyes and round glasses, with clothes at least four sizes too big was staring at him from the floor. The boy suddenly shook himself out of his dazed stupor, looked at Clint then looked back to the road behind him. He quickly stood up and ran away into the yard of 4 Privet Drive.

“GET HIM!”

Clint frowned and glanced back to see a fat boy leading a group of 4 boys that was running after the skinny boy. Clint narrowed his eyes and was ready to stop the kids when he heard an odd sound. Clint immediately shifter towards the noise, only to see that the green eyed boy had gotten himself stuck between the fence and the other boys. The waif-looking-boy, that surely couldn’t be older than 6, looked back in fear as the fat piglet passed by Clint and was getting closer to him. Green eyes narrowed in determination before he turned around and jumped. The fence was almost as tall as Clint… and this brat managed to jump it, Clint smirked as the fat child screeched in fear and ran inside the house. Magic indeed. A little while later Clint watched as a skinny woman, with the tallest neck he had ever seen, storm furiously into the backyard.

“Boy!” she called and, like a well-trained dog, the dark haired boy appeared.

“Yes, Aunt Petunia?”

“Did you jump over that fence?”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia.” The boy said again, this time in answer.

“Inside, your cupboard. Now! And you wait until Vernon arrives! What will the neighbours say when they found that you jumped over the fence to their backyard?”

Clint sneered and strolled into backyard, passing by the woman and putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder, who trembled as if he wasn’t used to positive touch at all. This was hardly surprising, really. Without giving the shrew a moment to yell or make a noise, he pulled the runt inside to the living room and sat on the couch with the boy at his side. The woman followed angrily, but just when she was about to open her mouth, he took out and pointed towards her the gun he had managed to steal from his brother. A good thing that in this time the police was a lot more lass then like in the future. The woman shrieked and paled considerably.

“We’re going to do this in either two ways. You scream and I’ll kill you, your Son and your husband when he gets home OR you stay quiet, serve me and Harry a cup of tea and some biscuits while we wait for your husband. When he arrives he’ll sign the adoption papers and pass on the boy to me legally or I’ll kill your three and take the boy anyway. And don’t think of calling the police, that’ll just make your son an orphan too.”

There was a whole minute of silence as the woman took in what Clint had said and then she turned around returning not long later with a tray topped with a teapot, several tea-cups and a plate with biscuits. Clint offered the biscuits to Harry, having some himself and looked amused to the woman as she sat on the couch before him, white as a ghost with a tea-cup in her hands but not drinking it. Clint looked at the boy who was looking at him confused, not really understanding what was going on but enjoying his tea and biscuits. The boy looked like he hadn’t eaten in days.

“You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I'm Clint, Clint Barton. You can either call me Clint or Father or Dad.” The boy’s eyes widened. “And no I'm not kidding, I'm here to adopt you. Just a little warning we’re going to travel a lot so when you pack your bag, make sure it’s light, so you can travel with it for hours.”

The boy nodded uncertainly.

“Are you really going to adopt me?” the boy asked before he blushed as if realizing that he had asked a stupid question and lowered his head. “I'm sorry.”

Clint glared at the woman who shivered under his frigid glare.

“Yes, Harry. And from now on, if you have a question feel free to ask. I will never punish you for making questions. Quite the contraire I will feel offended if you don’t ask questions.”

The boy nodded clearly embarrassed.

“Yes, sir.”

“And one more thing.” Clint said.

“What is it, sir?” the boy asked.

“No more sir.”

The boy went deep red but nodded quickly.

“Yes, si… Clint.”

Clint smiled amused and messed with the boy’s hair.

“Are you sentimentally close to your surname?” The boy shook his head confused. “Good, then from now on you’re a Barton.”

The boy’s eyes grew and Clint knew from experience that it was the surname that made the boy really believe. Clint heard the sound of something heavy descend the stairs and he turned to the woman who had palled, probably scared for her son.

“Mummy, why is the freak on the couch?” the boy demanded to his Mother.

Clint’s eyes narrowed.

“Petunia.” He hissed and the woman all but jumped. “You better take this freak from my sight or I might not control my finger.” He threatened and the woman stood taking her son to the kitchen at once, serving him a cake and then taking him upstairs before returning to her couch.

Clint knew that the woman was insulted at the name he had used but her mother’s instincts were stronger so she preferred so save her Son than to protect him from a name calling.

“Boy.” The woman said after a while and Harry looked at her in instinct. Clint hissed he didn’t like that he responded to be called like this. “Vernon must be just arriving. If you are going with Mr Barton you better go pack your bags.” The woman said afraid of Clint’s hiss.

Clint hummed and nodded at Harry who stood and all but ran to the cupboard under the stairs. Clint narrowed his eyes at seeing where the boy went to, but didn’t say a thing.

“You aren’t from His world.” The woman said. “You use guns instead of… sticks.”

Clint hummed, if he wasn’t certain before now he was.

“No, I'm not magical.”

“But you know about his freakiness.”

“I know about his speciality and I’ll do everything in my power to help him control it. And you say the F word again and I’ll make you wish I’d killed you.” The woman tensed but nodded. “How did his parents die? And don’t lie about it being of a car crash, I’ve read all about it on Harry’s files and it is obviously fake.”

The woman opened her mouth several times and then she stood and approached a bureau where she took a letter from one of the drawers and offered it to Clint before sitting again.

“On the morning of November 2nd 1981, this was left on our doorstep with a baby, this baby was Harry.”

Clint frowned and opened the letter reading it. It was a letter explaining how Harry’s parents had been murdered by a dark wizard name Lord Voldemort and how Harry had been the sole survivor. How he had defeated Voldemort and because of that he was known in the magical world as the Boy Who Lived. It mentioned about the Dursleys and some kind of blood protection and how Harry needed it and all that kind of stuff. And how in his 11 birthday he was supposed to return to the magical world for a magical school named Hogwarts.

Clint looked up to the woman and showed the parchment.

“This was all the contact you had with his world?”

“We tried to send letters refusing, but they were all returned.”

Clint hummed and saved the letter.

“His Mother was a witch, does that means you know how to reach the magical world?”

The woman sneered but nodded.

“There’s a street in London. The Diagon Alley or something like that.”

“Then later when we leave you will pay us a taxi for this street entrance, and how to enter.”

The woman opened her mouth to contradict but thought better and nodded.

“If I accept this, we won’t ever have to see either of you again, won’t we?”

“Trust me. If it would be for me you won’t see us ever again.”

Petunia nodded and they heard a car driving and parking before the house. At once Harry returned and sat at Clint’s side, as if scared that Clint would fled. Clint’s eyes narrowed. He would have to teach Harry self-esteem. The door opened and a blond fat man with a farty moustache entered the house. The man’s eyes immediately landed on Harry, who obviously wasn’t supposed to be on the couch but before he could talk he saw the gun pointed at him.

“Mr Vernon, I presume. Please take a seat.”

When the man sill didn’t move, Clint pulled the trigger back in a threatening manner. Vernon finally started to walk towards the couch and sat next to his wife. Clint wondered how the man didn’t smash his wife while they were in bed and then smacked himself mentally for picturing such image.

“Vernon, Mr Barton is here to adopt Harry. All he wants is for we to sign the adoption papers and a taxi to London and we’ll never see any of the two and the boy’s world ever again.” Petunia hurried to explain and Clint let her.

Honestly he wanted to kill those monsters for hurting Harry, but he knew from experience that Harry was too young to watch him killing people, his Aunt and Uncle nevertheless. There was a moment as the man assimilated the request.

“Give me the papers.” The man said and Clint had to contain his shiver at the man’s harsh tone, sadly Harry wasn’t as lucky as he was.

Clint pulled some of the papers he had printed in the library and gave them to the couple for them to sign. He had written in there how the Dursleys completely gave Harry’s paternal tutelage to Clint and how they would never take the boy in again. It wasn’t exactly official, but Clint was certain that when he would enter the wizard street he would find someone to go to that would make it official. When the two finished signing the paper, Vernon called a taxi as Clint went to pick Harry’s bag. It was small and all the clothes he had inside were hand-down from his Cousin – he would have to look into that later – and a teddy bear that was most likely once from his Cousin. When the taxi arrived Petunia Dursley gave him the money and the directions for the street and Clint and Harry caught the taxi, driving away from that hellhole.

**(TBC)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi
> 
> Was talking with MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun on Facebook Messages and was thinking of a Clint Phil fic I could write when suddenly I found myself typing directly to her Loki’s proposal… and I couldn’t stop myself from writing it xp
> 
> Next: Adopting Harry…
> 
> ~Isys


	4. Chapter II –Henry Barton–

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adopting Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:**  MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun
> 
>  **Disclaimer:**  I have no right to any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one sided ClintB/PhilC
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:**  AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  2.601
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Talking"
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Chapter II**

**–Henry Barton–**

6 May, 1988

Clint opened his eyes when the taxi driver woke them up.

“We’re here, sir.”

Clint nodded before paying the man and picking Harry, seeing as he had fallen asleep. He exited the car to look around. So a black door between a bookstore and a florist… there. Clint approached while carrying Harry, his forehead against his neck, and opened the door with one hand. Inside he saw an old café that would make any normal person think twice of entering but he had eaten in odder places. Clint approached the counter and called down the bartender. Once the man got within earshot, Clint asked him for directions.

“American?” the bartender asked and Clint nodded. “Don’t worry mister. Various people come around asking for directions, normally muggles, you see? So, here we are.” The man said opening the backyard’s door, he grabbed a stick and touched a brick in the wall. “It’s pretty simple actually. Now you go ahead and you find a huge white building with the word Gringotts, the wizards bank. It is commanded by goblins so be careful how you speak with them.” Clint nodded wondering what he meant by goblins. “In there they can officialise any papers you have for the right money and they also trade American gallons to British galleons so when your done came over, I have rooms over the café and your younger Brother looks like he needs something to eat and a good bed.”

Clint looked at Harry on his lap and then he smiled at the bartender.

“Probably we’ll do that. Thank you, sir.”

“Tom. Everyone calls me that.”

Clint smiled and then left, not really looking around much. It sure did look like it was taken from a fairy tale, but he wasn’t here to do some window shopping, he had work to do. It wasn’t hard to find Gringotts, the odd building was really easy to find actually. As Clint got closer to the door a goblin stationed nearby opened it for him. Clint nodded his head in thanks as he entered the building. It was an amazing piece of architecture, and if Clint wasn’t pressed for time he would have stopped and looked around more. Clint approached a counter and waited for a goblin to answer him and when the thing finally deemed him worthy – after Clint had to move Harry to his other arm – Clint took the letter from the Dursleys and the adoption papers giving it to the thing. The goblin grabbed them and read them in silence. Then the goblin looked up to Harry and then back to the letter. Finally the goblin looked around to the others humans and then stood and signalled Clint to follow him. He took them to a private room and offered Clint a seat, which had Clint readjusting Harry into a more comfortable position in his lap.

“Mr Barton, am I correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You aren’t a wizard.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Then why do I feel magical traces on you?” the goblin argued with a raised eyebrow.

Clint hummed and looked at the sleeping Harry before turning to the goblin.

“The Demi-god Loki sent me back in time, giving me a second chance with the man I love, on the condition that I would adopt this particular boy.”

The goblin’s eyes grew and he grabbed a parchment at once starting to write on it. Clint had to contain his smirk, he had suspected that the non-magic weren’t the only one veneering gods, apparently the wizards knew about the Demi Gods and veneered them – what was a good thing otherwise it would be odd to explain how he had it.

“You’re taking Mr Potter to the US, I presume?”

“When I’ll get enough money to travel us there, yes. And I would like to know where I can go in US to take Harry to magical schools.” The goblin nodded continuing writing. “And I want him to take my surname.”

The goblin looked up and then he grabbed another parchment.

“And Mr Harry James Potter is to keep his middle name?”

“Oh… no. Henry Phillip – with two ‘L’s – Sacha – with a ‘C’ after the first ‘A’ – Barton.”

The goblin narrowed his eyes but returned to the parchment writing it down.

“Does Young Barton know of his magical inheritance?”

“No, his uncles never told him anything except that he was a freak.”

The goblin’s eyes glared at the parchment but besides that he didn’t argue. Finally he grabbed another piece of parchment and gave it to Clint.

“Young Barton’s adoption papers.” Then he gave an id card that appeared from nowhere. “And his ids. If muggles police ask you may show them as they are official for both magical and muggle means.” Clint nodded and placed them in his shoulder bag. “You mentioned money issues. Young Barton is the sole heir of the Potter family. His Godfather Sirius Black is the sole heir of the Black family not to mention a few other families that have made Young Barton their sole heir. So money won’t be a problem.” Clint’s eyes grew. “I take it you didn’t know about this.”

“Definitely not.”

“Young Barton is one of the – if not The – richest wizard in the world. I will take care of a continent portkey tomorrow for your safe travel to US. There I’ll make sure Young Barton’s future tutor will be there waiting for you two and to help you accommodate.”

Clint hummed, for now it would work, later on he would worry how he would get SHIELD’s attention so he would become an agent again.

“The bartender mentioned galleons?” he asked.

The goblin nodded and three coins appeared on the counter.

“The golden one is a Galleon, the silver is a Sickle and the bronze one is a Knut.” The goblin looked up to make sure Clint caught on so far. Clint nodded. “There are 17 Sickles in a Galleon, and 29 Knuts in a Sickle, meaning there are 493 Knuts to a Galleon.” Clint hummed and grabbed a pen and a paper from his pants, writing it down. “A Galleon is £4.93, a Sickle is £0.29 and a Knut is £0.01.”

“Very well. So it’s the magical currency, then?”

“Yes sir. I’ll make sure that the tutor that will be assigned will know about muggle stuff so it will manage to teach both you about the differences between the two worlds and still teach Young Barton what he needs to know as a wizard and as an heir.” At this the goblin grabbed another parchment and offered it to Clint to sign and then a small coin bag appeared that he offered to Clint with a key. “This is the Potter’s vault key. Gringotts has a branch in the US if you go there you can access to your UK vaults as long as you have the keys. In the coin bag there is 50 Galleons, 100 Sickles and 500 Knuts for in case it is needed. The Leaky Cauldron rents rooms and serves meals, I would advise you to stay there for the night and in the morning pass by a clothes shop and a bag shop and request for a stretching un-weight bag, before passing by the library and request by some books about the wizardry world. By afternoon I believe I’ll have everything ready.”

“Thank you, sir.” Clint said and after that he left, going to the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry woke up at the promise of food and the two ate in silence. Clint knew that he wasn’t the most talk active person sometimes… and others he was too much but this boy ate his food in silence and although he obviously had questions he didn’t ask them.

“Harry?”

“Yes, Clint?”

“When I was at the bank I changed your name, between other things.” Harry nodded. “I changed it to Henry Phillip Sacha Barton.”

Harry frowned in thought.

“May I ask why?”

“You may always ask why, Harry.” Clint retorted amused. “Henry as Harry is a possible diminution for Henry, the others being Howard, Harvey, Hadrian and Harrison. Howard makes me think of Howard Stark and knowing Tony Stark, his son, that wouldn’t be a good idea, besides I like Henry.” Harry hummed biting on his pumpkin pie while not taking his eyes from Clint. “Phillip as that is the name of someone special to me. Sacha because it’s Russian and because its Greek meaning means avenger.”

“Why avenger?”

“It was a nickname me and my friends – to which one of them was Russian – called ourselves.” Clint answered while sipping from his Butterbeer.

Harry nodded and then his eyes grew, looking behind Clint. Clint turned to see the bartender using magic to move a trunk.

“How can he…?”

“Magic. That’s what you have. That’s why you managed to jump the fence this afternoon and these people have the same power as you do.”

“Really? Does that means I'm no…?”

“Yes, Harry. You’re no freak. And don’t ever dare to think of yourself like that again.” Harry blushed but nodded. “Tomorrow we’ll buy you a few books that will explain about magic, but for now we’ll finish eat and go to bed in our room, to sleep.”

Harry nodded with the biggest of smiles and turned back to his food. A couple hours and he already trusted him so much… how badly the Dursleys had really mistreated him?

**–CH–**

After he clothes shopping, and Clint making sure the woman gave them mostly muggle clothes, they walked to the bookstore, having passed by the bag shop previously so they would have where to put the clothes. As they walked with their new clothes on Clint stopped before a shop. Harry looked at him confused and then to the shop window only for his eyes to grow going deep red.

“I don’t really need…” the boy started but Clint had none of it and grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him inside the kids shop.

“Sir, I would like to buy Henry a new toy.” Clint said to the clerk.

The woman turned to Harry with a smile.

“Any idea what you would like, dear?” Harry shook his head, still deep red. “Well don’t you worry, dear, I'm sure we’ll find just the thing you want.”

Clint stayed by the counter as the woman took Harry around the shop, Harry was 8 years old he needed toys. Finally the boy returned with three toys in his arms that he put on the counter clerk and looked at Clint wondering if it was too much. Clint took his coins bag out as he looked the objects, a box with a train set, a box with a small Quidditch set – Clint would have to look into that, it looked like a sport of some sort – and a plush snake in tones of green 3 feet tall and 5 inches wide. Well… as long as the boy was happy.

“How much?”

In reaction Harry’s eyes grew and he hugged Clint around his leg close. Clint blushed as the woman smiled.

“All together it’s 5 Galleons and 17 Sickles.” Clint took the money to pay as the woman turned to Harry. “You have a really good older Brother. Now don’t forget to be a good boy to him and do as he says so.”

Harry nodded with a huge smile, not letting go of Clint’s leg – what was really an odd position.

“I won’t, ma’am. Clint is the best Dad ever.”

The woman’s eyes grew and she turned to Clint at once embarrassed.

“I'm sorry, I thought… and you are so young…”

Clint smiled and gave her the money.

“Looking young doesn’t make me young, ma’am.” He retorted, because technically in mentality he was past 40.

Clint grabbed the plush snake and gave it to Harry and then save the others in the expandable bag before leaving with Harry going to the bookshop – forcing Harry to release him and grabbing his hand to keep him close as suddenly the alley had increased in people. When the two managed inside the bookshop Clint turner to Harry amused.

“So I'm Dad now?” he taunted and Harry blushed nodding.

“You said I could’ve.”

“I did. And I approve. I'm just surprised you were so quick to name me it.” Clint answered truthfully and pushed Harry to the counter clerk. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, mister.”

“I just found that my Son is a wizard and we need books on magical world, etiquette and others things of the like.”

The clerk smiled and showed them to a bookcase and picked several books that flew to the counter clerk.

“A few history books as well, I suppose.” The man added and Clint nodded as the man grabbed two books that flew as well.

“In fear of sounding stupid, but what is Quidditch?”

The man looked at Clint confused and then he grinned and took them to sports bookcase and grabbed one book name ‘Quidditch Through the Times’.

“Quidditch it’s the Wizardry game. In this book it both explains how the game is played and gives a little history about it. It’s new in the market and it’s a little more expensive but unlike the others books it has both things in one single book.”

“Not an issue.” Clint answered and the clerk smiled, letting the book fly to where the others were. “What about portkeys? I just heard the term yesterday and don’t understand it.”

The man showed a finger as if remembering something and all but run to another bookcase and returned with a book about ‘Wizard World And It’s Travelling Ways’.

“A good book written for muggleborns and muggles to explain to people like you how our ways of travel works. Now portkey, the one you’ve heard is…” the man started to pass pages until he opened on one “ _an instrument that transports you from one place to the other magically, normally used old things like an old boot so muggles won’t feel like touching them. One single touch of a finger is enough for transportation and normally it feels like a hook pulling you from your bellybutton. Warning, for the first times don’t eat before travel._ ”

Clint and Harry traded a look.

“Deadly noted.” He said, making the clerk close the book. “We’ll take that one as well. And maybe some children books. Henry is…” Clint turned to Harry, almost saying 6. Harry really looked younger than he was maybe after eating a little it would change.

“8 years old, sir.” The boy said trying to make himself look taller.

“I have just the book for you, Young Henry.” The man said before disappearing to another bookcase. He returned not long later with a small book. “The Tales of Beedle the Bard.” The man said offering it to Harry who picked it looking at the cover where various draws were moving. “Almost every child your age knows those tales, they’re really good and have been passing from generation to generation. Of course there are others tales more youngers but…”

Harry smiled at the man, hugging the book to his chest.

“Thank you, sir.”

Clint smiled.

“Well, I think this will be all.”

The man nodded and took them to the counter where he put all the books in a box before Clint paid and the three went to a café to eat something light. Clint looked at Harry as he opened his new book and started to read at once as they waited to be served and grabbed himself the magical newspaper from the next table and started to read.

**(TBC)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Harry's tutor…
> 
> ~Isys
> 
> * * *
> 
> Ps: If you want to keep updated on my fanfics or just talk to me or give me suggestions: **www(doc)facebook(doc)com/IsysSkeeterFanfiction**


	5. Chapter III  –His Dad–

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's tutor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:**  MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun
> 
>  **Disclaimer:**  I have no right to any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** PD/VD
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:**  AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  2,721
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Talking"
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Chapter III**

**–His Dad–**

6 May, 1988

In the morning Harry woke up to hear something outside, it was so big that it shook the whole room. Harry closed his eyes tight and pulled the blankets over his head. No… he didn’t want to wake up. He was having such a great dream! This stranger… Clint Barton had appeared at his uncles’ house and had adopted him. Had even changed his name! Tears run down Harry’s face. If Dudley was descending the stairs that meant that in no time he was going to be forced up by Aunt Petunia to prepare breakfast. No more Clint Barton and no more adoption…

Harry shivered at hearing the sounds of steps on the floor and closed his eyes tighter, curling himself into a ball under the covers and moving as far away as possible from the cupboard door as he could. Suddenly the covers were pulled away and something sat down next to him. Harry frowned in puzzlement. Why would his Aunt sit on the floor? When had she opened the door? Had she called him earlier and he hadn’t hear her? Did he have a fever again? Oh no! That was really bad... That usually meant bad things for him.

“Hush… It’s just the train.” A male voice murmured soothingly, before a warm body laid down next to him; gently making him uncurl and hugging him to his chest. “Hush. I'm here.”

Harry hiccupped. That voice… Harry grabbed Clint’s shirt and cried into his chest. This was real!

“Scared of trains?” The man asked as he slowly rubbed Harry’s back with his hand, while Harry started to calm down.

“I… I thought it was Dudley descending the stairs over my cupboard.” He mumbled ashamed.

Clint hummed and pulled the blanket over the two.

“Well. I'm not going anywhere, Harry.” The older teen said, hugging Harry closer. “I will do everything in my power for you to never be sent to them again.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, kiddo. Now sleep, it’s still early.”

**–CH–**

Harry entered the toy shop, feeling ashamed as Clint asked a General Help Lady to help Harry buy something. Harry was certain that he was so red and so hot that he could fry an egg on his face.

“Any idea what you would like, dear?” Harry shook his head, still feeling ashamed. He didn’t want anything, Clint had already given him so much… “Well don’t you worry, dear, I'm sure we’ll find just the thing you want.”

And with that the woman pulled Harry deep into the shop, showing him a corridor with various toys of the same kind. The woman showed him various broom-toys that according to her any boy his age would have, something about Quidditch. Harry wasn’t sure why kids his age wanted a broom so he decided that the box with the game-set as his best bet. He didn’t want the woman to find out that he didn’t know what Quidditch was. The woman seemed surprised that Harry hadn’t chosen the broom-toy over the box game but accepted it and started to walk back with Harry. On their way back Harry saw a train-set in a box, it had the rails and everything! Harry stopped and grabbed it, turned it upside down and looked at the back to see how many batteries it needed, he didn’t want Clint to spend too much money with it after all.

“That’s a very nice train set, my dear. You have a good eye. This one is build so the child only needs to offer the train his magic and it moves… as long as it is in the rails that is.”

Harry looked at the woman and then to the train, he couldn’t take two games… it was too much!

“Don’t worry, both games aren’t really expensive. I'm sure that if you ask your Brother he’ll let you.” The woman added as if understanding what Harry was thinking.

Harry blushed but nodded. Clint looked like a teen, so it would be odd to explain to the woman that he was his Father instea… d. Harry tensed as the woman started to pull him again. Clint was his Father. He had told Harry that he could call him Father or Dad. Clint wanted to be his Dad. Clint wanted Harry. Clint didn’t mind about Harry’s freakiness. Clint was an adult who wanted Harry, for Harry… not because of the Dursleys… but for HARRY.

“You look like the kind of boy who likes plush toys, am I correct?” Harry looked at the woman surprised. “Well, normally the first things any boy wants it’s a broom so they could fly, you know? So either you already have one, though I doubt it sine you didn’t mention it, or you could be more into plush toys.” The woman smiled and guided Harry to another corridor. “Nothing to be ashamed, of course. If you don’t want the Quidditch set we can leave it on the counter and I’ll put it away later.”

Harry nodded embarrassed while looking at the plush toys that filled the whole corridor. Suddenly the memory of his teddy bear came to mind. Harry went directly to the bears. His own plush, not a second hand from Dudley because his cousin didn’t want it anymore… Harry was going to pick a small one when he stopped. Right under the bears’ hangers on the bottom of the exhibitor there was a plush snake. Its skin was in various tones of green and it was so well done that it looked real, Harry had to think twice to realize it was a toy. Harry picked it with one hand, while shuffling his toy boxes to the other. It’s eyes were ruby red and so brilliant that seemed alive. Harry wasn’t sure why, but it remembered him of someone.

“You really are one of a kind, aren’t you?” Harry looked up to the woman, confused. “No one ever chosen the snake plush, it’s been there for as long as I can remember.”

Harry looked at the plush snake again and then hugged it to his chest with one arm. The woman smiled amused and took Harry to the front row where Clint was waiting for them. Harry put the boxes and the plush on the counter and looked at Clint afraid that he would think it too much. Harry was surprised at seeing Clint take the coins bag out as the man inspected the games and the plush. Harry made sure to put the Quidditch set apart from the others, he didn’t want to ask too much of Clint after all, even if the man wanted to be his Father…

“How much?”

Harry’s eyes grew wide. Clint hadn’t even thought twice! Harry hugged the man the highest he could that was around his leg and as tight as he managed, closing his eyes tightly. Clint didn’t just want to take Harry in, he didn’t just want to dress Harry and to feed him. He wanted Harry and would make sure to sustain him the best he could. Like the Dursleys did to Dudley. And even if it was only three toys – Dudley used to have at the least 20 – even if it would be just one, it showed Harry how much Clint wanted him and liked him.

“All together it’s 5 Galleons and 17 Sickles.” Harry opened his eyes to see a blushing awkward Clint take the money to pay as the woman turned to Harry. “You have a really good older Brother. Now don’t forget to be a good boy to him and do as he says so.”

Harry nodded with a huge smile, not letting go of Clint’s leg. Clint was the Best!

“I won’t, ma’am. Clint is the best Dad ever.”

The woman’s eyes grew and she turned to Clint at once embarrassed.

“I'm sorry, I thought… and you are so young…”

Clint smiled and gave her the money.

“Looking young doesn’t make me young, ma’am.” Clint retorted in his American accent and Harry was surprised that the man didn’t comment on the name Harry chose to use. He had expected the man to be surprised or something, but to not react at all?

Harry looked as Clint grabbed the plush snake, persuaded Harry to release his leg before he gave him the plush and then saved the two boxes game set in the bag. Clint quickly nodded his thanks to the woman and left with Harry to the alley where he immediately grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him close because of the suddenly increasing in people outside. Finally, after Clint managed to force them both between and through the bustling crowd, they arrived at the bookshop and quickly entered. Luckily it was empty. Harry saw as Clint released him and turned to him amused.

“So I'm Dad now?” he teased and Harry blushed, nodding.

So Clint did notice the name he had called him.

“You said I could’ve.”

“I did. And I approve. I'm just surprised you were so quick to name me it.” Clint answered truthfully.

Harry was surprised, was he expecting for Harry to take longer at calling him Dad? Well it didn’t matter, Clint wanted to be his Dad and Harry wanted a family that wanted him. How could Harry not make the most of it… for both of them?

**–CH–**

“Can I have a wand?”

“What?” Clint asked, looking up from the newspaper the man was reading, towards Harry.

Harry blushed and showed the ‘fairy-tale’ book.

“Here says that every wizard has to have a wand.”

Clint frowned and from the little Harry knew from the man he was thinking.

“We’ll talk with the goblin about that later.” He said and Harry frowned.

“Goblin?”

Clint grabbed a book from their bag and handed it to Harry. Harry looked at the volume of Magical Creatures and opened it looked at the index for goblins before opening on the page.

_Goblins are a highly intelligent race of small hominids with long fingers and feet that coexist with the wizard world. Their diet consists of meat, roots and fungi. Goblins converse in a language known as Gobbledegook, and are adept metalsmiths notable for their silverwork; they even mint coins for Wizarding Currency. Due to their skills with money and finances, they control the Wizarding Economy to a large extent and run Gringotts Wizarding Bank._

_Goblins have their own type of magic and can do magic without a wand. They are represented by the Goblin Liaison Office of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in the Ministry of Magic. Goblins are short and fair-skinned, as they spend very little time outside. They have very long fingers and feet, dome shaped heads and are slightly larger than house-elves._

_Throughout the history of the Wizarding world, there have been several goblin rebellions. These rebellions were most prevalent in the 17th and 18th centuries. One rebellion, in 1612, took place in the vicinity of Hogsmeade; the Three Broomsticks Inn was used as headquarters for the rebellion. The rebellions have been described as "bloody and vicious". The names of the rebels tend to run along the lines of "Bodrod the Bearded" and "Urg the Unclean"._

_Overall, goblins' idea of payment and repayment are not the same as humans. Goblins dislike theft, but use a different definition of the word. By goblin standards, the maker of an item, not the purchaser is the rightful owner; the purchaser is required to return the item to its maker upon his or her death. Goblins believe that the wizard paying for a goblin-made artefact is merely renting it, not owning it. Goblins consider the passing of an item from one wizard or witch to another without further payment to its maker "little more than theft"._

Harry hummed, closing the book again.

“Do I still get to have a wand?”

“Last person I knew who had magic he didn’t use a wand but a staff…”

Harry looked up to Clint admired.

“Who is he?”

“Loki, a Demi-God.” Clint explained, looking up from his newspaper and Harry shivered, that usually didn’t mean a good thing. “I'm not going to hit you, kid.” Clint groaned angrily and Harry shivered at his harsh tone. “Listen, I'm not your uncles. I won’t ever do to you what they did previously.” Harry nodded unsurely. “Now that we got that covered… Loki is from another world… also known as Asgard. And yes, he is real, very much real.” Clint looked around to the others and then again towards Harry. “He was the one who advised me to adopt you. And I have to say that it was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Harry blushed. “Even if you have: low self-esteem, is afraid of a person lowering his newspaper and respond to someone calling you “boy” like a well-trained dog.” The man added teasingly. “But don’t you worry, chick, I’ll teach you better.” He finished confidently.

Harry went deep red and nodded.

“Chick?” he couldn’t help but ask and Clint grinned.

“Well, that’s the name for baby birds, isn’t it?”

“But I'm not a bird.” Harry argued confused.

Clint smirked.

“You may not be a bird… more like a snakeling…” the man added the last part pointing to the plush snake on Harry’s arms, making Harry blush. “But I once went by the name of Hawkeye and as you are my son… makes you my chick. My magical chick.”

Harry’s eyes grew surprised.

“Oh… Why Hawkeye?”

Clint pointed to his own eyes.

“Have a really good eyesight. I’m a marksman.”

Harry hummed.

“I suspected that… so you work for the police?”

“Do I look like I work for the police?” Clint argued amused.

Harry snorted, picturing Clint in a police suit.

“Yeah, I guess not. So how you work?”

“I used to work on a circus… but now I left and have you.”

“So we’ll going back?” Clint shook his head, his face going cold. “Why not?”

Clint grabbed the newspaper again.

“You should eat your lunch, chick.” The man said sipping from his beer.

Harry’s eyes grew wide but did what he was told, knowing that he had somehow crossed the line with his question. So circus old stories were out of the list to talk about…

**–CH–**

Harry followed Clint into the white odd building with the letters Gringotts on the front. As they entered the second door to a hallway filled with counters were creatures - that from the book description only could be goblins - were behind working. Harry grabbed Clint’s hand while holding his plush close and Clint pulled him to one of the counters. They waited for the people before them to be catered and then moved to the counter. The goblin looked at Clint, at Harry and then signalled them to follow him. They entered a sideway door and at once Harry bowed before the creature.

“May your money grow.” He said, trying to sound polite.

The goblin looked at Harry surprised, but bowed back.

“And may your vaults never go empty.” He said before he moved to the desk, next to the desk there was a blond grey eyed woman in a blue robe. “Bartons this is Mrs Callisto Lovegood. Mrs Lovegood these are the Bartons, Mr Clinton and Young Henry.”

Mrs Lovegood stood with a smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two.” The woman stated with a bow of her head. “You may call me Kari.”

Clint raised an eyebrow.

“And why are we meeting you?”

“Oh, of course. Griphook contacted me to warn me of Young Henry’s need of a magical tutor. My parents were both squibs - that are children of wizards with no magic - so I was taught both in the Wizardry World and the Non-Magic World - or like the wizards call it; the Muggle World. I have a young daughter around young Henry’s age and I would be enchanted to by young Henry’s tutor both in muggle and wizardry ways. I was once in Muggle School after all, I do know how they teach and how they see the world.”

Harry didn’t know what it was about this woman but he liked her already. He grabbed Clint’s hand again and the tenseness in the man’s shoulders disappeared.

**(TBC)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi
> 
> I'm not sure if Luna’s Mother has a name, but if she does then my mistake because this is the name I'm calling her.
> 
> Next: Halloween…
> 
> ~Isys


	6. Chapter IV  –Halloween–

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:**  MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun
> 
>  **Disclaimer:**  I have no right to any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one sided ClintB/PhilC
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:**  AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  4,108
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Talking"  
>  _"Talking in another language than English"_  
>  'Thinking'  
> –Parseltongue–  
>  _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_  
>   
>  Time change/Date of time

**Chapter IV**

**–Halloween–**

Last week October, 1990

Clint looked up as Harry opened the door of their motel room to see Kari's entering with her young daughter Luna. Harry grabbed Luna's hand and pulled her to his corner where he had saved his games and the two started to play at once. Clint grabbed his 'work' bag and looked at Kari with a raised eyebrow.

"See you in a couple hours." The woman returned with a smile.

Clint nodded and approached Harry kissing him on the top of his head before leaving the motel. His chick was growing up to be a fine boy…

**–CH–**

"Hello Harry. How are you today?" Kari asked, making Harry grin up towards her.

"I'm great, Kari. Guess what?"

"You know I'm not very good with guessing games, Harry."

Harry blushed.

"Dad is going to buy us an Addams Family costume for us to dress up on Halloween." He explained excited.

"Really?" Luna asked. "Mum can we buy our own set? So we'll match Harry all the way from England?"

"Well…"

"Please…" Harry and Luna begged and Kari sighed.

"Oh well… if you and your Dad are going as Pugsley and Gomez I guess we can go as Morticia and Wednesday."

"What about Dad?" Luna asked.

"Well, I'm sure you'll Father will love to play Uncle Fester… or Lurch, you never know with Xeno." Kari added thoughtfully. "But now it's time to work, children. Harry, you had homework to do."

Harry nodded eagerly, ran towards his desk table, grabbed his notebook and returned, giving it to Kari on his homework of the week.

"Well, go put on the music, we'll start with dancing lessons."

Harry groaned but nodded, going to put the CD player on and then offered his hand towards Luna.

**–CH–**

Harry woke up at hearing someone enter the house, Harry opened one eye to see Clint nod his head at Kari as the woman picked up Luna and left. Clint approached his own bed and collapsed on it, he was obviously tired.

"Dad?"

Clint looked up at Harry, smiled and laid on the bed next to Harry. Harry leaned against his Dad's arms as the man hugged him.

"You should be asleep."

"You know I'm a light sleeper." Harry argued. "How was work?"

Clint shrugged from his odd position.

"Good. Did what I needed to do…"

"Isn't it odd?"

"Odd?"

"To kill people for money?"

There was a moment of silence and then Clint sighed letting his head rests on Harry's hair.

"Sometimes I forget how smart you are, chick. I was taught to be like this. I know that it is odd to understand. But that's how life is. A lot of questions, and very few answers."

"Do you still love him?"

There was a moment of silence as Harry knew that Clint was wondering what to say.

"Yes."

"But whoever this Phillip guy was, he's dead! It's been years since you last saw him, Dad!"

"DON'T!" Harry shivered as Clint forced him on his back leaning over him. "Don't say that…" Harry nodded, trying to control his tears. "Oh… Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to…" Clint hugged Harry close. "I'm so sorry, chick! I didn't meant to scare you… I love you more than anything, you know that, right?"

"Yes, Dad." Harry mumbled against Clint's chest. "You know… he would've want you to move on."

"Harry…" Clint hissed in a warning.

"No, Dad. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to stay like this just because you can't be with him. He would've understand that you need to move on. Hell, Dad, you need to move on!"

Clint raised himself on his hands, looking down on Harry.

"And it's in moments like this that I hate that you sound so much like him!"

Harry pouted.

"Why is that?"

"Because you make me feel like a petulant child, like he used to do. You seem wise talking with me like that… in that tone."

"I guess that's why you liked him, Dad."

Clint grinned and Harry relaxed, he wasn't angry at Harry anymore. Clint leaned down and kissed Harry on the forehead.

"He would've loved you, you know?"

"Magic and all?" Harry argued. "Wasn't magic what killed him in the first place?"

Clint nodded.

"Phillip was the kind of person to see way past that."

"If he would've survived…"

"Harry…"

"Just listen to me. What if he would've survived the attack but it was hidden from you and your friends… didn't you say that his death was what made you all unite?"

Harry saw as Clint frowned in thought.

"I wouldn't put it pass the director to do it…"

"Do you regret leaving all that to find me then?"

Clint grinned amused.

"No, I don't." Harry smiled back. "Having you was the best thing that ever happened to me… nightmares and sulking and all."

"I don't sulk!" Harry argued with a blush.

"No, you just brood."

"Dad!" Harry whined, making Clint grin amusedly.

"There, there my dear Chick… no need to grow embarrassed and scream my ears off."

Harry glared at his amused foster Father and looked the other way, refusing to look at the smug jerk.

"If Phillip was here he wouldn't have let you treat me like this." Harry argued, and no, he wasn't pouting, that was unbecoming.

"If Phillip was here he would've known what to say and how to say it to put both of us in our place and make it seem like it was our decision and not his." Clint argued amused.

**–CH–**

Next night

Harry looked at the man that his Father was talking with. He looked like he was in his middle forties and Harry was sure was old enough to be hisDad's own Father, but the man was still hinting on Clint as if it was normal to flirt with a 19 years old male. Harry sighed and grabbed his juice bottle sipping from it. He did tell Dad to move on, but hell…

The mid-forties man was Caucasian with dark brown hair, sprinkled with barely seen grey streaks and blue eyed. Harry didn't really see what Clint saw in the man. Harry looked down at his plate, suddenly losing all appetite. Harry peeked up to the bar where his Dad was with… the other. The man leaned down and whispered something in Clint's ear. Harry shivered when the man looked directly at him while whispering in his Dad's ear.

Yes, his Dad definitely needed to get better taste in guys… younger, nicer guys…

Harry sighed and peeking a look again to his Dad and his… friend, he decided to go to the motel. He couldn't eat, not while watching Clint flirt with a total stranger that could've been Harry's Grandpa – and wasn't that idea repulsing? – and his Dad wasn't exactly giving him much attention so he'd might as well head back. Harry stood and went to the chop-house's door and peeked back, just to make sure his Dad wouldn't notice that he was leaving, before he left the place.

Today was one of those days Harry wished that Phillip was alive and that he was there. The man would've probably gotten angry with Dad for leaving a 10 years old boy all alone in a street like that. Well, if Phillip was alive they wouldn't be living on the run…

Harry sighed, grabbed a small staff from his pocket and started to play with it, enlarging it to walking-stick size and then back to hand size, passing it from one hand to another… Harry suddenly narrowed his eyes before enlarging the staff to its full length and then, quickly, slammed its bottom on the floor with strength creating a wave or air around him. Harry took a deep breath at hearing the men groan in pain as they werethrown backwards and shrank his staff as he ran away. Why did Dad choose today to find a man?

"Meow."

Harry looked at the sound to see a black cat with green eyes in a dark corner, he dared a quick look behind and then hid with the cat in the dark corner. Not long later the men passed by him running, stopping near the corner for a few terrifying seconds, but the cat quickly moved into the light, convincing them to move on since obviously their target wasn't there. Harry leaned against the wall, sitting on the floor and hugging his legs. He hated these kind of men. Mercenaries that wanted to sell Harry in the black market as a whore or as a slave… or worse the paedophileswho thought Harry was easy prey… and then there were the assassins. Harry had met them all. Hell, his own Dad fit in the last one. But that didn't meant that he wanted to be like him. Harry loved people. The Dursley were awful people, but if Dad could be an assassin and still be the Father of the year, so could the other people… if only they were given a chance…

Harry snorted, not too long ago he wasn't giving the man - who his Dad was practically kissing - a chance. But hell it was a stranger that wanted to get into his own Dad's pants! He deserved the right to not trust the guy!

Harry started to pet the cat when it returned to his lap, laying on his belly and legs because of Harry's odd position. Finally, when he was starting to grow mesmerized with the cat's purring a man appeared before him. Harry enlarged his staff at once, ready to use the few spells he knew if he had to.

"What happened?" Harry relaxed at hearing his Dad's voice and found himself crying as Clint kneeled before him, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Did someone touch you?"

"No… but I used magic to escape." Harry managed to say between his hiccups.

Clint hummed and squeezed Harry's shoulder, before standing.

"Go to the motel right away and lock the windows and door." He ordered before Harry heard him prepare his gun and leave, running.

Harry sighed and stood with the cat in his arms. He knew better than to disobey a direct order from Clint. It was apparently easy to return to the motel, the waiting for his Dad not so much. The black cat refused to leave and stayed with him all the way, which Harry was grateful for. A couple hours later Harry heard the sound of steps as someone approached their door.

"Sacha, it's me. Let me in, Chick."

Harry sighed relieved and went to open the door on Clint. Clint entered tiredly and sat before Harry on his bed, laying the gun over the mattress.

"Sorry." Harry mumbled after a while of dead silence.

Clint sighed.

"Honestly Harry… sometimes I think you go looking for trouble."

"I don't… I swear!"

Clint nodded and stood stretching his back.

"Have you packed?" Harry nodded. "Good, then let's go. And next time you hide in an alley, avoid purring cats!"

Harry blushed but nodded. The two left the motel and Harry watched as his Dad stole someone's car and drove them away from there as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry…"

"You said that before."

"But… that man…"

Clint finally looked away from the road to Harry, amused.

"Don't worry, kiddo. Men like that one are a dime a plenty. Besides you told me to start seeing other people, that doesn't mean I have to compromise. It was just going to be a one night thing, maybe not even that… no man in the world is going to be more important than you… norwomen… and not even Phillip!"

Harry felt touched and went deep red, quickly looking the other way. He wished he could have brought along the cat now so he would have something to do with his hands.

"But you need to learn how to hide better. If I wanted I could've killed you all the way from the main street."

"You have better sight than any other person." Harry argued.

"And there are worst people out there than me… trust me, I know!"

Harry sighed and nodded.

"Yes, Dad."

Clint grabbed Harry's hand over the gear shift.

"Your powers are growing stronger… I saw the mess you did and I have to say I'm impressed… hell I felt it all the way from the pub, so you can only guess how powerful that was."

"You're just saying that because you're my father." Harry argued making Clint laugh.

"Okay… maybe I'm a little biased, but you are powerful. Kari herself says it."

Harry pouted but nodded.

"Do I want to know why they wanted me?"

Clint stayed in silence for a few minutes and Harry wondered if he would've answer, until he did.

"Drunk teens who saw you at the bar and found you an easy target for an… experiment."

Harry shivered. That didn't sound too good.

"You killed them, didn't you?"

"You know I had to. They saw you doing magic even if by tomorrow they could maybe forget it all, they could still remember and the 'right' people would've heard of you and your powers… we can never be too careful!"

"Are you mad at me?"

"You could've had hidden better…" Clint started and Harry flinched, knowing it to be true. "But I'm proud that you managed to use your staff to protect yourself so well…" Harry grinned back. "But don't ever disappear on me like that again!"

"But…"

"Man or no man. It's night and I told you how dangerous the world is out there!" Clint reprimanded and Harry sighed nodding. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me, so don't disappear on me like that."

"Yes, Dad."

"I do love you, Harry. You know that, right?"

"Yes Dad, and I love you too."

**–CH–**

Halloween, 31 October, 1990

Harry looked at himself in the mirror in the motel they were staying that night. It didn't really mattered where, what mattered was that today was Halloween, witches night and the day his parents died. Clint always insisted in celebrating the holiday to thank his parents and show them that their Son was happy on this day that the line between life and death was so close. Harry sighed at looking at the Pugsley Addams costume his Dad had bought for him, it was so big that made him feel like he was dressing Dudley's clothes again… he just didn't feel right in them…

"Dad…" he started tentatively, not wanting for the nineteen years old male to find the real truth. Dad hummed in answer by his side on the mirror as he prepared himself. "I'm not certain I can play Pugsley..." he started unsure. "I'm not cousin Dudley after all." he added and whimpered at his slip, before he looked at his dad to see the fake moustache he was putting on "Mon Pere?" he added amused when the man didn't seem to be listening on.

Clint looked at Harry at once amused.

"Tish, that's French!" the man stated as if surprised and made a move of going to grab Harry's arm.

Harry threw his tongue at his Dad, moving away to safe distance before taking the outfit out. He wasn't sure if he could keep the little food he had in his stomach with the way his belly was writhing at the idea that those clothes could fit Dudley…

"I don't think I can play the Addams Family, Dad." He mumbled.

"Why not? It's your favourite show." Clint asked surprised, finally giving Harry attention.

"I know..." and how would he get out of that one? "But I'm just not cut out for it..." he tried to say and then his eyes found the comics he had by the side with his favourite hero in the front. That's it! "I'm more like Captain America, you know?" he finished pointedly.

Clint's eyes grew and Harry wondered if the man had caught him in his lie.

"Give me a minute…" he mumbled before taking the moustache and running off from their motel room.

Harry frowned confused. Where in the hell could his Father run off to?

Clint returned half-hour later in which Harry used to take a bath - trying to take the damn feeling of disgust for using Dudley's clothes again out of his skin - with a suit in one hand and a Captain America outfit for children in another. Harry wondered why he wanted the suit, he already had one on for Gomez Addams after all.

"Here it is. Captain America and the hottest agent there is."

Harry's eyes grew looking at the suit with more attention in order to see the details; the black pants and jacket, the blue shirt with sleeves, the black belt with an iron buckle, the blue with white strays tie, the black 'expensive' shoes, the black dark glasses, the iron wrist-watch… Harry raised an eyebrow at his Dad. Clint grinned and leaned Harry's costume on one of the beds before showing Harry the wrist-watch.

"Are you seeing this? It's vintage! And this?" The man added, using a tone of voice that Harry supposed was him incorporating Phillip, and grabbed the glasses. "Were only made 20 of them." Harry frowned as Clint went to grab Harry's card collection with the Captain America. "And of course… the most important part of the costume, I almost forgot."

Harry's eyes grew.

"Phillip liked Captain America?"

Clint snorted as he started to dress himself.

"If he liked Captain America he says… if I didn't knew that the man's love for Captain America wasn't love love I would be jealous of his infatuation." Dad argued making Harry snort. "Now go dress up."

Harry nodded with a grin and run to his costume. Dressing the blue, red and white costume of Captain America and finishing with putting on the mask on his head, only his eyes and mouth being able to see. Harry approached the window and looked at himself and smiled. He liked this costume. Harry turned to his Dad to see him finishing putting gel on his hair in order to tame it and look more like Phillip, or what Harry supposed he would've look like, before grabbing two pairs of red boots that he helped Harry dress and giving him his shield they left the house to go trick or treat.

**–CH–**

Harry was bored. Until now all he had managed were a couple of men to hint on his Dad while Harry was asking them for candies… HONESTLY! The man was dressed up as an agent! Not was a man in suit taking a child trick or treat because he had to… Some men were really disgusting!

"Autch…" Harry mumbled as he fell on his ass, having just bumped into someone as he run from yet another house where the man was hinting on Harry's Dad.

Harry looked up to ask sorry when his voice went missing. Before him was a red haired woman with curly long locks, as pale - or paler - as Harry, with a white tight t-shirt and black tight pants. The woman smiled at Harry and offered him the hand, helping him stand.

"I'm sorry, mal'chik. Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

Harry took the hand, standing and tilted his head to the side. Mal'chik? Wasn't that Russian for boy? Then could this mean…

"I'm fine, thank you. I'm Sacha."

"Pleasure to meet you Sasha." The woman said with a smile.

"No… Sacha with a c." The woman smirked amused but nodded. "That one over there is my Dad, by the way." Harry stated as his Father suddenly realized he was alone and run to him. "Do you know what we are dressed as?" he asked hopefully… if he did his part well then he would manage to keep her close and no more men hinting on his Dad in front of him for tonight!

"Well, Sacha, with all those colours I presume that you're dressed as the American known hero: Captain America." Harry nodded with a grin as his Father arrived at his side, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezing it in warning. The woman turned to Dad. "And I supposed that FBI?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, Dad is dressed as the hottest agent there is."

"Did he now? And who is this agent name?" The woman inquired amused at Harry's answer.

Harry grinned.

"Phillip, my name's sake." He answered and before Dad could send the woman away he asked. "Will you go trick or treating with us? Oh but you don't have a costume on... Why don't you have a costume?" he wondered, looking at her clothes.

"You make a lot of questions." The woman commented.

Harry nodded with a huge smile.

"Dad says that he'll be sad if I don't ask the questions that I'm thinking in my mind." He answered truthfully, before turning to his Dad. "Isn't it right, Dad?"

Clint nodded, not quite taking his eyes of the woman.

"I'm not sure if it is…" The woman started but Clint interrupted her.

"Please, would you do this for my son? He really took a liking to you." Clint requested and Harry gave his Dad one of his biggest smiles.

The ginger woman took a peek behind her and then at Harry in wonder.

"Well, I suppose that a few hours won't hurt. Come on Sacha, which house do you want to go next?" The woman asked and Harry grabbed her hand with a huge smile before pulling her to the next house, maybe this night wouldn't be so bad after all…

**–CH–**

Clint looked at Natasha as Harry pushed her from one side to the other. How his Son had managed to bump into the woman he didn't know and although he was happy for seeing her again… he knew that she being here meant that she was in a job.

"Trick or Treat!" Harry exclaimed as soon as the person opened the door and the old lady smiled at the hyper boy before offering him the candies.

The old woman looked at both Clint and Nat behind Harry and Clint wondered if she thought that they were Harry's older siblings or if they were his parents… it wasn't hard for Clint to know what Harry had been doing when he invited Nat. Now the men hinted on Nat instead of Clint.

"So…" Clint started as Harry ran off to the next door. "I failed to hear your name, Miss." He said at Nat.

The Black Widow looked at him with an amused look.

"Well, how can you not recognise the Mother of your Son, Agent Phillip?" She taunted.

Clint snorted and looked at Harry again as the boy run towards them.

"So that's your costume then? Sacha's Mother." He said, loud enough for Harry to hear.

"What about you, Agent Phillip? Which costume is the real one? The Agent or the Father?" the woman retorted.

Clint hummed. As much as this was Natasha… she wasn't His Natasha. He couldn't trust her. She was a Russian spy after all.

"That's for me to know… and for you to find out." He argued and the woman nodded not arguing.

**–CH–**

Clint left Harry in the motel and put on the Hawkeye suit and mask. The boy looked at him drowsily as he did it before his eyes closed and the young male fell asleep on the mattress. Clint approached and kissed him on the cheek before leaving the motel room with his bow and arrow and running into a building and climbing all the way into the roof. Clint prepared his bow and arrow and waited…

Suddenly Clint opened his fingers, letting go of the arrow and it shot all the way to the other side of the street into the window and into the alarm system that started ringing loud and clear. The black figure inside stopped suddenly and turned to the alarm system, run to it, took the arrow out, and then she looked directly at Clint. All that in mere seconds. By the time she had a gun in her hand Clint had another arrow at ready. There was a moment of silence as the two faced each other, Black Widow with more risks of being hit than Clint… and then they heard the sound of the police cars' sirens arriving. Before the cars even got a chance at parking both Clint and Natasha where long gone.

Clint didn't know what his once best friend was going to steal for Russia, but he had stopped her.

**(TBC)**

Poll for this fic: on my livejournal name isysskeeter 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi
> 
> My longest chapter… EVER! Hope you all liked it.
> 
> Next: Kari’s death and Barney returns…
> 
> ~Isys


	7. Chapter V  –Barton or not a Barton?–

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kari's death and Barney returns…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:**  MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun
> 
>  **Disclaimer:**  I have no right to any of the characters; they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one sided ClintB/PhilC
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:**  AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  484
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Talking"
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Chapter V**

**–Barton or not a Barton?–**

1 November, 1990

Harry looked at his Father as the man spoke on the phone. The man didn’t stop nodding every two lines and kept sending Harry a sad looks. What could have happened? It had to be grave for Dad to look so serious…

Finally Clint approached and sat before Harry looking at him with a sad look.

“We need to talk, Henry.”

**–CH–**

Harry shook his head, tears at the corners of his eyes. No… Father was lying… he had to be! Father was joking!

“Henry…” Father started but Harry hasn’t having any of that…

“You’re lying!”

“I'm not, Henry Barton!”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” Harry shouted before he could stop himself. “I'm Harry James Potter! You aren’t my Father and never will be!”

Harry’s eyes grew wide and even Clint looked surprised at Harry’s outburst. The two looked at each other for a few seconds as if unsure and then Harry turned around and stormed out of the house. Shoving a hand on his face, covering his mouth and nose, as he ran and cried, not yet believing he had said that. Harry didn’t dare to look behind, surely his fa… Clint was following him. Surely the man was mad with him. He had every right. Surely Harry would be shipped off to Surrey again. Shit! He had been such a good boy, why did he had to do something as stupid as this? Why couldn’t he be happy with this teen that wanted him? Why…

“Ouch.” Harry whimpered as he bumped into a solid body and fell on his ass. Harry took a hand to his bottom massaging it while looking up to the body figure before him. Before him, with the sun making everything blurry, was a man that Harry couldn’t quite see. “Sorry.”

“Watch where you’re going, champ!” A male voice stated coldly.

Harry froze, that voice… Harry looked behind but no one was following, could it be? He stood and looked at the male, only for his eyes to grew at seeing the man before him. How had he run so fast?

“Clint? I… I'm sorry. What I said… I'm really sorry, Dad.” Harry lowered his head blushing, tears running down his face freely.

There was a moment of silence as Clint looked at him as if wondering what to answer.

“My name isn’t Clint.” The male voice muttered, Harry looking up, flushed in embarrasment. “But if the Clint your mentioning happens to be a Barton…” Harry nodded at once and the man smirked. “Then apparently I'm your Uncle.”

Eyes widening, Harry stared dumbstruck.

“I'm sorry… I… you two look so much alike… I…”

“Aren’t you a little old to be my baby brother’s son?” His Uncle wondered sceptically.

“I… Clint adopted me two years ago, sir.”

“Did he now?” His Uncle asked amused and placed an arm around Harry’s shoulder pulling him with him. “So what’s your name?”

“Henry Phillip Sacha Barton… Dad always call me Harry, though.”

His Uncle smiled down at him.

“Nice meeting you, Harry. I'm Charles Bernard Barton, but people always call me Barney.” The man answered with a wink making Harry chuckle. “Where’s your Dad? I would like to review my baby Brother. It’s been a while.”

“Oh…” Harry looked behind him from where he’d been running. “I… don’t know.”

“Did you two argue?” Harry looked at Uncle Barney confused. “You were crying, kiddo.” Harry blushed again and nodded. “Well, I can’t exactly leave you here, can I?” the man said and started to pull Harry to the carnival that was located nearby. “Come, family stick together no matter what.” Uncle Barney drawled and Harry smiled, nodding. “Have you ever been to a a circus?”

“Father said he used to live in one… but he refuses to go to one and refuses to speak about it.” Harry answered truthfully, looking around awed.

“Then, shall I give you a tour?”

Harry turned to his new Uncle wide eyed, hopeful. Uncle Barney chuckled and took Harry around the carnival. Every man knew his Uncle by name and when Barney asked if Harry could ride their roundabouts, they always raised an eyebrow in question about whom Harry was and Uncle Barney mouthed the word Clint every time. It didn’t take long for every marketer to know that Harry was Clint’s son.

Harry looked at the auto caravan that Barney had left him in. According to his Uncle it had once belonged to his Father. Harry approached one of the posters and touched it lightly. It was about Hawkeye’s show. Dad did say he used to live in a circus but why had he left? At least in here he could practice his aim and not kill anyone…

“Meow…”

Harry turned to the window to see the black cat with green eyes there. Harry chuckled and slowly approached him before placing the cat in his arms. He served the cat a bowl of water, got into bed and closed his eyes.

Had Dad meant it? Was Kari really dead?

**–CH–**

Barney entered Clint’s old auto caravan after his show to see young Harry on Clint’s bed sleeping tiredly on his side, against his torso was a black cat looking at him with a glare. Barney looked at the boy as he slept peacefully. What was about this boy that had made his Brother flee, steal his money and gun and disappear? He wouldn’t lie his Brother’s influence was obviously in this boy, but he could see how the boy had lived in Britain and, from the way he spoke, in a snob family. Why had Clint dared to turn against his family for this brat?

Barney passed a hand through his hair with a sigh, he would start to teach Harry how shoot a bow and arrow tomorrow… if the boy was staying then he would start to work. Barney started to leave the caravan when suddenly he heard a whimper.

“No!” Barney stopped and turned his head to the boy. “Please no…” The boy started trashing on the bed. “Please Uncle Vernon I promise I’ll be good…” the boy kept pleading.

Barney approached the boy and sat at his side in wonder. Could this mean what he thought it meant?

“No… I'm a good boy… please Uncle Vernon… please don’t…”

Barney chuckled internally while closing his eyes amused. So that’s why his baby brother had taken the kid in… he had lived in an abused family… like them. Barney opened his eyes and took his hand to the boy’s hair starting to massage it and, in no time, the boy started to relax, sleeping peacefully. Yes, they boy was exactly like his brother had been. Barney stood stretching his back, he dared a look at the kid before leaving the caravan going to his own. Even if Clint wouldn’t show up in time, coming to this village had already been worth it. Of course life in a circus wasn’t all fun and games, but if Harry had come from an abusive family then he would know how to survive.

**–CH–**

2 November, 1990

Harry woke early morning, the sun hadn’t risen yet. He got up and went to his Dad’s old wardrobe, hoping to find some comfortable clothes his size. He found a shirt, a jacket and a couple of pants that looked like it would fit him. Then he left the caravan and started stretching.

Was Clint worried about him? Did he even look for him? Did he even care for him?

Harry shook his head to take the thoughts away and started jogging around the carnival. By the time he arrived at his caravan the sun was starting to rise and his Uncle was there against the door, arms crossed and a raised eyebrow.

“Morning Uncle Barney.”

“You really are Clint’s kid.” Barney argued and grabbed a plastic bag he had by his feet and threw it at Harry. “See if this fits you, kiddo.”

Harry nodded and entered the caravan, took his sweaty clothes off, used a towel to clean off the sweat and then put on his new clothes. Harry arrived outside and his Uncle hummed approvingly.

“Good, I didn’t have it wrong by much.” The man said before placing an arm over Harry’s shoulder and pulling him to his own caravan. “Where do you think Clint is right now?” Harry looked up from the cereals bowl his Uncle had put before him, confused. “He must be worried about you, I should contact him and tell him where you are.”

Harry’s eyes grew. Of course, they could always go to the motel and see if his Dad was still there…

“We were staying at a motel just out of town… I’ve no idea how I managed to outrun. I mean he is faster than I am and I managed to get all the way to the carnival without getting caught.” Harry mumbled and his Uncle hummed.

“You were angry, you weren’t thinking straight and obviously your body took you where you knew you would be safe.” The man stood and grabbed a big book - that Harry recognized as a telephone directory - and started to look it up. “Here it is. Can you read?” Harry nodded and Uncle Barney turned the book around and showed him the various motel’s names. Harry pointed to the right one and his Uncle nodded. “I’ll go call him in the telephone booth just out of the carnival. Don’t worry, I'm sure Clint has already forgotten the argument you two had and is looking all over town to where you might be. Stay here while I'm gone, okay kiddo?”

Harry nodded and his Uncle left. Could he be right? Could Clint not hold a grudge for what Harry had said? It had been the first time Harry had ever refused the Barton name… sure it was supposed to happen, but in the beginning, not now! And Kari… was she really dead? Was he really never going to see his blond British tutor ever again?

**–CH–**

Clint entered his motel room and looked around hopefully but no, Harry hadn’t returned during the time he had been looking for the boy. Clint sat on the bed tiredly. Harry where did you go?

Clint looked up with a jump when someone knocked on the door. He stood at once going to open, could Harry have forgotten his key? But no, it was the owner of the Motel.

“There’s a call for Clinton Barton, a man who claims to be your older Brother?”

Clint’s eyes grew. Oh no, this was bad. Really bad! He had lost Harry and now Barney had found him? Things were going really downhill.

“Are you certain?” Clint asked. If this was really Barney the man wouldn’t call, he would just show up.

“He gave me a complete description of your appearance, sir.” The poor man said and Clint sighed and stood going to answer the call.

How had Barney found him? And why now?

“Yes.” Clint said coldly to the phone, trying to keep his emotions in control.

“Hello Clint, it’s been a while.”

“What do you want Barney?” Clint hissed, just the man’s voice was making his knees tremble and he couldn’t let the man see how much it scared him.

Clint heard from the other side of the line a pop sound from a tongue, his older brother’s tongue.

“I can see why he ran away…” Clint tensed, his eyes narrowing and his breath hitching. “That got your attention, didn’t it?” the voice of his older Brother asked amused.

Clint clenched his hands and tried to calm down.

“How did you find my Son?” Harry where the hell had you got yourself into?

“Funny thing actually. He bumped into me and thought I was you… in the boy’s defence he wasn’t thinking straight at the time, he was crying and shivering like mad… I don’t even want to know what you did to leave him like that, but then again what should I expect from a teenager with a Son?”

Clint closed his eyes to contain his retort as he felt a stab into his heart. As much as he wanted to argue that he was a good Father what Harry had told him last night kept coming back to hunt him down.

“If you dare touch him…” Clint threatened but even to his own voice the voice lacked conviction. “I…”

“You what, Clint? You can’t even watch over the champ without throwing him away. Do that boy a favour and leave him alone. You know where the carnival is staying, pass over, leave the boy’s clothes and leave the boy’s life… don’t make yourself into your worst nightmare.”

Clint found it difficult to swallow, his throat tightening with every poisonous word. ‘I hate you’ ‘You aren’t my Father’ kept echoing with Harry’s voice inside his head.

“He’ll be well taken care of in there, right?” he finally managed to say.

“I know how to take care of a child, Clint.” Barney hissed. “But you will be sending money monthly for the boy.”

Clint nodded.

“Is he…” ‘there’ he didn’t quite manage to finish the question. What would’ve he said to Harry if he was there by Barney’s side? That Harry would be better taken care off in the same carnival that Clint refused to live in?

“No, I left him eating breakfast in my caravan. He was raised by an abusive family, wasn’t he?”

“Yes. His parents died when he was a baby and he was taken in by his Mother’s Sister and her family.”

“Did Uncle Vernon ever…?” Clint didn’t need for his Brother to finish the question, knowing what he meant.

“No… not that way, the man used his hands and belt as punishment but never anything further than that. Harry had a very low self-esteem when I took him in, he was even not used to eat and used to work for hours without the need to stop. Do remember him that he needs to eat. He tends to forget it… and he is good with his small staff that he always takes around with him… maybe you can teach him a few tricks with it. I tried to teach him bow and arrow, his aiming is terrible.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Barney said. “When can you leave the boy’s luggage here?”

Clint opened his eyes and looked to a clock while trying to control his emotions, the tightness in his throat coming back tenfold.

“Half an hour.”

“I don’t want Harry to see you. So leave the bag at the entrance and leave the town.” Barney hissed and turned off the call.

Clint put the receiver down and smiled thankfully to the man before leaving and going to his room. He approached Harry’s things and looked to the captain America suit that he had gotten the kid two nights ago. The boy had loved it so much that he had refused to put it in his bag… maybe Barney was right and the best thing for Harry was to stay at the carnival. There were other children around Harry’s age. He would be more likely to have an actual childhood than what he had with Clint. Clint packed everything and quickly wrote Harry a letter, placing it inside Harry’s bottomless bag. Even if he wouldn’t see the boy again so soon at least Harry deserved to know why. Besides Clint’s life was dangerous, without Kari he would have no one to take care of his son while he was working. He couldn’t keep leaveing the boy at the motel’s alone; if he hadn’t gotten back early, that one time, Harry would’ve been killed. Clint climbed into the car he was renting and drove to a local photography shop, as soon as he entered the owner recognized him and smiled going to go fetch a package. Clint opened and looked at the picture of him as Agent Philip, Harry as Captain America and Nat. Clint paid the man and saved one of the small pics with just Harry’s face in his wallet before driving to the carnival. Clint hid the package inside the bag and left the car going to the entrance. At once he was recognised and people that he used to be friends with approached to compliment him. They spoke about Harry and how he was a fine boy. Clint tried to smile back and offered them the bag.

“Barney asked me to bring this for Harry. Could you give this to him?”

They nodded confused and Clint turned around, stealing a motorcycle and driving away at all velocity. He couldn’t really understand what he had just done. He sure hoped Harry would be well with his brother.

**–CH–**

Harry looked up from playing with his staff, as the nice woman gave his Uncle a bag that Harry recognised. That was his.

“Dad…” Harry mumbled and the two adults looked at him. “Dad was here, wasn’t he?”

The old woman nodded with a sad smile.

“I'm sorry, lad. He gave me this bag to give Barney and drove away in a motorcycle.”

“Did he say something? Anything at all?” Harry asked, surely Clint hadn’t just left him behind without saying anything.

“I'm sorry, lad.” The old woman shook her head sadly.

Harry grabbed his bag and went inside his Dad’s old caravan, throwing the bag to the other side of the room. He couldn’t believe Clint had just left without saying something! Surly he would’ve said something, anything right? Harry was his son, god damn it!

“Harry.” Harry looked up to see his Uncle by the door, looking at Harry. “I told Clint that he should bring your stuff. Don’t worry, you will never be left behind here.”

Harry nodded vacantly, watching as his Uncle left the caravan to talk with the Lady some more. He approached his bag, ripping it open to find the photo of himself, Dad and ‘Mother’ that they had taken on a local photographer. A cat’s meow made him look up to the black cat with green eyes that was on his bed. Harry approached the cat, not releasing the picture and sat next to it starting to pet it while tears run down his face freely. He really had destroyed everything when he had exploded at Clint…

**(TBC)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi
> 
> Like I said my beta, when people get angry they stop thinking clearly and that is why Harry said those awful things to Clint.
> 
> Besides the reason why Clint’s doesn’t fight for Harry is because Barney managed to say just the exact words to make him doubt himself
> 
> Next: Natasha returns and Phil Coulson shows up…
> 
> ~Isys


	8. Chapter VI  –Agent Mother–

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha returns and Phil Coulson shows up…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:**  MyDearGoddessofthemoonandsun
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter or Marvel or any of the characters from the books or movies, they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee. I also do not make any money from the writing of this story.
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one sided ClintB/PhilC
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:**  AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel, murderer
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  3,657
> 
> "Talking"
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Chapter VI**

**–Agent Mother–**

Late April, 1991

Clint looked as his target he moved farther away. He had managed to hit most of SHIELD’s targets and knew that they were starting to look Hawkeye up, it was a good thing Harry wasn’t with him at the time or… Clint tensed. No he wouldn’t think about him, he was in the middle of a job, he couldn’t think of him or…

“Lower your weapon.” A female voice instructed, the gun in her hands pushing against the side of his head.

Clint tensed, he knew that voice… he withdrew the arrow from the bow and turned around. Natasha Romanoff was before him with a gun pointed at Clint’s forehead.

“Take off your mask.” The woman hissed, when Clint didn’t more right away she made a move of hitting him with the gun but Clint dropped the bow and arrows, before ripping the mask of his face. At once recognition showed on the woman’s face. “Agent Phillip.” The woman breathed.

“Agent Mother.” Clint replied making the woman show a small smile at the corner of her mouth. “How did you track me down?”

“It wasn’t difficult. Your target was pretty easy to find with your… ideals if I might say. I just needed to find the tallest building with the best view to the target. How did you know how to attack me all those months ago?”

“I didn’t attack you.” Clint argued and the woman grinned amused.

“No… you triggered the alarm. You stopped me. Why?”

“You work for Russia.” Clint argued with a shrug.

There was a moment as Natasha looked at him and then she saved her gun, not that it gave Clint any reassurance, the woman was a terrific fighter.

“Where is Sacha?”

Clint tensed and found that he was unable to look directly at the woman.

“Not around.”

“Which motel are you staying?” the woman asked.

“I said he is not around.” Clint hissed and the woman frowned.

“What happened to him?”

Clint opened his mouth to answer but he knew better than to trust Natasha.

“None of your business.”

“He wasn’t murdered was he?” black widow asked and there as a small worried tone in her voice.

“No!” Clint said at once, looking at her. “I… sent him away. Away from this life. To a better place.”

“Why? Didn’t Sacha know what you did for a living?”

“Sacha knew perfectly well what I did. He knew more about what happens in the dark than any child his age should know. I sent him away so he could have a real childhood with my brother. He’s better off with him.”

“Did you ask Sacha what he thought of it?”

“He’s a child. He doesn’t know what is best for him.”

“And you do?” Natasha asked sceptical.

“I'm his Father!” Clint argued coldly.

“Oh really? Then why did you send him away? If you were his Father you would’ve kept him.” Clint opened his mouth to argue but something in natasha’s eyes made him tense. “Sacha was your good thing. You’re pretending to be a normal person. This kinf of life that we have doesn’t allow us to do trivial normal things… but you had that with Sacha and you decided to throw it away?” Clint looked the other way, not managing to keep looking at the woman in the eyes. “Tell me honestly, do you think Sacha is better off at your Brother’s place?”

Honestly? Clint thought. He didn’t trust his own Brother. Hell his Brother had left him almost to die the first time around…

“No.” he finally mumbled.

Natasha rolled her eyes and leaned down, grabbing Clint’s bow and arrow before pointing to Clint’s target and shooting with perfect aim. Then she gave Clint the bow back.

“I believe that you know a way out of here without being spotted?”

Clint nodded and grabbed her hand, leaving their spot quickly. Clint had almost forgotten how good Nat really was. The two arrived his motel room and he sat on his bed as she looked around. Clint looked at her as she was looking at a mirror where Clint had pinned Harry’s Captain America’s pic at the top corner.

“Why did you track me down if you weren’t going to kill me?” Clint asked.

“Oh. I was going to kill you, trust me. That is until I found out who you were. You can thank Sacha for that actually.” The woman said with an amused smile. “Where is he actually?”

“At a carnival.” The woman hummed. “Clint Barton.” The woman turned to look at Clint. “That’s my name.”

Natasha’s eyes grew as if she didn’t know what to say.

“Natasha… Romanoff.” She finally said and Clint nodded. “Why did you name your son with a Russian name?”

“Because I had a friend that was Russian and because of what it means.” Clint answered, massaging his shoulders. “If you aren’t going to kill me why are you still with me?”

Natasha pushed from a chair and sat before Clint.

“You trust me, right?” Clint raised an eyebrow in answer. “You let me met your Son, you went after me to make sure I wouldn’t steal anything, you gave me your name and even though you could have fought me up there in the roof you didn’t. You aren’t the kind to be sloppy, so this means that you either trust me or you like me. So each way is it?”

“Do you believe in time-travelling?” Clint argued making Natasha frown. “What if I told you that I named Sacha with a Russian name because of you?”

“Is that why you trusted me before you even met me?” the woman asked sceptical.

“Yes. That’s why I let Sacha pull you with us to the treat or trick.”

Natasha stood and started to pace back and forth.

“You’re mad.”

Clint grinned amused, she wasn’t attacking him yet that was a good sign.

“You born roughly around the year 1928, your parents died when you were a child in a burning building, you only survived thanks to Ivan Bezukhon. Do I need to go on?” Clint asked with a raised eyebrow as Nat turned around and looked at him frowning. “I see you’re still sceptical. By the late 30’s you had the Soviet Intelligence attention on you and they started your training. In ‘41 the Hand almost brainwashed you into fighting for them but Ivan, Captain America and Wolverine - or as he called himself back then, Logan - saved your ass. After World War II you joined the Black Widow Program, while using being ballerina as a cover up, and eventually married a man called Alexi Shostakov. When he died you entered further into the Red Room Academy and become Black Widow. Oh and your instructor in the Black Widow Program was Winter Soldier if I'm not mistaken.” Clint added as an afterthought but he knew that he had proved his point.

“Let’s say I believe you… why did you name him after me?”

“Because we were as close to friends as we would ever be in our profession. Agent Phillip is real, he just doesn’t know me yet. I wasn’t sloppy, actually I'm trying to make him and his agency notice me on purpose so they hire me… again.”

“Why did you go back in time?”

“Phillip died… I was given a second chance but there was a catch. I would have to adopt Harry. A child for his life didn’t seem like a bad deal.”

“How long have you been waiting to tell this to someone?” Nat asked, sitting before Clint again.

Clint sighed as if he had just let a heavy weight leave his shoulders.

“You’re the first I tell the whole truth. Not even Sacha knows…”

“You really believe what you just told me, don’t you?”

Clint nodded.

“Trust me, magic is real. When I’ll get Sacha back he’ll show you the magic tricks he’s capable of doing.”

Nat stayed in silence, processing the information and then she nodded.

“Only after I’ll see Sacha actually doing magic will I believe you. After we get him back and, if I’ll believe you, what are you planning to do?”

“Continue getting on SHIELD’s nerves by killing their targets before they even manage it.” Clint answered with a shrug. “But I have to say I didn’t anticipate for you to come after me.”

“Shield?”

“American’s top secret agency. They aren’t SHIELD yet. But they will be in a decade or so.”

“And you’re certain that they won’t just attempt at your life for being too out of control?”

Clint raised an amused eyebrow.

“They send me to kill you the first time. I decided to sway you to SHIELD instead. We were inseparable since then… you were the only one who knew about…” Clint looked down taking a deep breath. “What I felt for Phillip Coulson, our handler.”

“Seriously? You named your son after me and our handler?”

Clint shrugged shamelessly.

“Actually I named him after almost everyone. Sacha means avenger which was the name of a team… that included you, me, Iron Man, Captain America - yeah he is alive, they will find him in a decade or so -, Thor - a demi-god - and Hulk - a green giant angry human. And I named him Henry, as his biological name was Harry I changed it to Henry, because Howard was too much alike Howard Stark and Tony Stark would never even like the boy if he knew that the boy had his Father’s name.” Clint couldn’t help the laugh at Nat’s look. Yep she wouldn’t be difficult to sway as he first thought she would be.

**–CH–**

6 May, 1991

Harry knew that Uncle Barney was wondering why he was so lone today, but he couldn’t tell the man. He wouldn’t understand. Today was his and Clint’s anniversary. They day they met. The day that they always took a day off to celebrate. It was their day. And not even a letter from the man. Not even the staff he used to play with was enough anymore. Harry sighed and looked down at his plush snake. Uncle Barney hated it, just like he hated the Captain America suit that Harry kept in his caravan, it didn’t serve Harry anymore but he refused to threw away anything that Clint had bought him. Their memories were in those things and the only way for Harry to don’t forget with age was to keep them.

**–CH–**

“Just explain me one thing. Why does it have to be today?” Nat asked yet again.

“Because today is the day of our anniversary. The day that we met. We may not celebrate birthdays and Christmas as special as we celebrate this day. If I pick Sacha on this day he’ll understand.” Clint answered truthfully for the first time. “If he’ll want me.”

“And why do I have to do the patrol alone?”

“I used to live in that carnival, everyone knows me and how I look. Barney would know at once… and I told you he told me to stay away. Besides I stole money and a gun from him before I took Sacha in.”

“And how can you be sure Sacha will recognise me?”

“He had the pictures of our last Halloween together.” Clit answered, hoping that the boy had kept them. “Tell him Agent Phillip is sorry, okay?”

Nat rolled her eyes but left the apartment they were staying in where they had full view of the carnival. Clint stayed by the window as Nat entered alone.

**–CH–**

“Are you hurt, mal’chik?” a female voice asked, making Harry look up confused. No one called him that since… “It’s been a while, Sacha. Phillip says sorry.”

Harry looked around and then again to the woman, to ‘Mother’.

“Mum?” he mumbled barely a whisper and the woman nodded. Harry stood from the bench and hugged her. “How?”

“Found Phillip, he told me that you were not around and I knocked some sense into him.” Harry snorted, tears at the corners of his eyes. “Apparently he is forbidden from ever entering this carnival ever again and my job is to pick you and your stuff and go to him.”

Harry tensed.

“Uncle Barney said that he didn’t want me anymore.”

‘Mother’ kneeled and looked at Harry in the eyes.

“Then he lied. Your Uncle told Phillip that he had to bring your clothes and that he was forbidden from ever coming close enough to you in a way you could see him. That’s why I'm here. They don’t know who I am.”

Harry looked to the side, to make sure Uncle Barney wasn’t there.

“I'm going to my caravan pack my things then… is Phillip mad at me?”

“Mad? Phillip can’t wait to have you with him again. You have no idea how much he misses you.”

Harry smiled breathily and then run to his auto caravan and quickly and efficiently put everything inside his magic bag. Dad hadn’t sent him away…

**–CH–**

Clint looked at Nat as she started to leave the carnival with a boy at her side. It was Harry. Harry was with her. Clint took a hand to his mouth to keep himself in control. His Son was so big… Nat leaned down and whispered something on the boy’s ear. At once the boy looked up and directly at Clint. Tentatively the boy waved and Clint waved back. In no time Harry and Nat had disappeared inside the building and then the front door was being open. Clint turned only for Harry to jump into his arms, hugging him with arms and legs and crying into his shoulder. Clint let his face fall on the boy’s hair and hugged his boy tight.

“I'm sorry… what I said… you just left…”

“I'm sorry for leaving you. I thought that maybe… you would be better off at the carnival.”

“I missed you so much, Cl… Dad.”

“I missed you too, Chick.”

The two heard the sound of someone coughing. Clint looked up towards Nat.

“I'm sorry to interrupt the reunion but we have to run… I don’t think you want your Brother to realize that you’re here before we manage to be as far away as possible.”

Clint hummed and smiled down at Harry, while putting him on the floor before nodding at Nat.

“You’re right. We’ll have enough time to talk in the car.” The three left the apartment quickly and efficiently, entering a car that Nat hadn’t explained Clint how she had gotten it and Nat sat behind the wheel, driving away.

Clint looked behind to the street to see a man in suit with sunglasses looking at the carnival and when he took his glasses out Clint gasped.

“What?”

Clint turned towards Nat as she drove away, Harry in the back seat with his plush snake in his arms.

“They’re here.” He simply said.

Nat frowned and looked at her back way mirror.

“Are you certain?”

“I'm certain.”

“How did they follow us here? We didn’t leave any trace…”

“I… I used to live in the carnival, my name was Hawkeye.”

Nat put her foot on the brake and then turned to Clint.

“You’re kidding me, right? They can easily find whom you are if you left such an obvious trace. All those people back there are witness. And they know about your Son. Sacha will be in danger!”

Clint looked back  towards Harry and then sighed.

“You know what this means, Nat.”

Nat nodded and inverted the car, driving back to the carnival.

“Can we take the caravan with us, if we’ll going back?” Harry asked hopefully.

Clint hummed as he opened the gloves compartment and took his brother gun from the inside.

“What is the plan?”

“Leave Sacha at the apartment, dress our suits and then spring cleaning. And if you know of papers that can link you or Sacha to the carnival you know what to do.”

Clint nodded and opened the gun looking at the bullets.

“You’re like Dad?” Harry asked, looking at Nat.

Nat looked at Harry and then ahead again.

“Yes and no, Sacha. I didn’t recognise your Dad when I met you, but…” Nat traded a look with Clint. “I'm the Russian friend your Father spoke to you previously.”

“Natasha Romanoff?” The boy asked and Nat nodded. “So it’s because of you that I have a Russian name?”

“Yes.” Nat answered as she parked. “Clint take Sacha inside as I get us the equipment.”

Clint nodded, got out of the car and went to the back seat, picking Harry up and carrying him inside the building, climbing the stairs quickly and yanking the door open, he entered the room. Placing his son down, Clint keeled before him and gently took his hands.

“Stay away from the windows and don’t open the door unless Hawkeye and Black Widow asks for Sacha to open it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Harry…” Clint started but Harry smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

“I love you, Dad. You can compensate me for today, tomorrow.” The boy said mischievously.

Clint smiled and kissed his son’s forehead.

“It’s a deal.”

Clint stood and quickly left the apartment and ran towards where Nat was waiting. Dressing appropriately they returned to the carnival and commenced their attackAs they fired and dodged their enemies, Hawkeye soon found himself face to face with Phil Coulson. He looked at Hawkeye, at his clothes and mask, and then took a phone to his ear.

“I’ve found him, sir.”

From behind Phil, Barney appeared and caught Hawkeye’s attention. Pulling out his gun Hawkeye vaguely noticed Phil doing the same.

“Duck!” Hawkeye growled, aiming away from Phil's body. Phil frowned and turned when he felt a presence behind him. Hawkeye fired a round into his brother’s chest, making sure to hit all of the vital areas before glancing at Phil. "You owe me one" He taunted as he ran away from the scene.

Phil was there. Shit. He wasn’t ready to see Phil so early on!

**–CH–**

Black Widow found the caravan Sacha had been in and after burning all the others, she attached the caravan to a near by car and drove out of the area. By the time she returned she found Hawkeye killing off a man who looked remarkably alike him as he saved a man in a suit. That had to be Agent Phillip… Black Widow stole a bike by the entrance and drove to Hawkeye stopping by his side, while looking directly at the Agent. So this was the man Clint wouldn’t shut up about… Hawkeye climbed behind her and when she was sure he was on she drove off at full velocity as Agents from both sides started to shoot at them.

“Shoot at them.” Black Widow hissed, but Hawkeye seemed unwilling to hurt the agents, or at least one in particular. Black Widow snarled and snatched his gun and shot at a gas tank at the entrance that exploded as she passed by. “There. If he’s smart he’ll run the other way.” She hissed as she returned the gun and drove them to the parking lot. The two of them jumped off the bike and split up, Black Widow making a break for it to the car she had left there and, already inside, changed her outfit; meanwhile Hawkeye ripped off his mask and ran up the stairs to get his son. The two descended the stairs not even 5 minutes later and got in the car. Natasha drove to where she had left the caravan and attached it to the car, before blowing up the car that she had stolen at the carnival and drove away. “Were you hurt?”

“No.” Clint answered. “You?”

Natasha looked at her arm where a bullet had touched her.

“I’ll live.”

“Maybe you should let me drive?” Clint asked. “They did see your face after all.”

Natasha hissed but conceded the point and stopped the car by the side road climbing in the backseat, sitting next to Sacha and pulled Sacha to her arms, hiding half her face in his hair. Not even half a mile later they were forced to stop by some men in suit.

“There’s something wrong, official?” Clint asked through his window, when he was told to stop.

“There was an attack at the carnival at the village nearby.”

Clint gasped.

“Really? But we just got out of there right now… isn’t that right, hun?” Clint asked turning in his seat to look at the backseat.

“Yes, Dad.” Sacha mumbled.

“What’s wrong with your Mother?”

“Mum’s asleep.” The boy whispered.

Clint hummed and turned back to the agent.

“Was anyone hurt? Is there something we can do?” Clint asked to the SHIELD’s agent.

“I would like to check your caravan and trunk.”

Clint opened the car and Natasha listened as the man told the agent some fluffy story on how the two lovers had met and how they had fallen in love, while showing the man what he wanted to see. Finally Clint returned to the car and drove away.

“If you call me hun ever again, I’ll kill you.” Natasha hissed while shifting to sit more comfortably.

Clint chuckled.

“What could I say? That you two were my siblings?” He argued making Sacha snort. “And good job at playing around, Chick.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Why do you keep calling him chick?” Natasha asked.

“Because I'm a hawk and the name for baby bird is chick.” Clint answered. “Besides doesn’t he look girly?”

“DAD!” Sacha screeched going deep red, making Clint laugh and Natasha chuckle.

It was odd how right it felt to be around those two even though she hardly knew them. She felt at home with them. She supposed she could stay with them for now. She didn’t need to stay forever with them after all.

**(TBC)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi
> 
> Sorry for the delay, my beta has had it for two weeks but I’ve been changing houses to a farm and opening a massage center so I have not been having time to came
> 
> Next: Hogwarts letter and Fury appears…
> 
> ~Isys


	9. Chapter VII  –Hogwarts Letter–

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** not yet
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter or Marvel or any of the characters from the books or movies, they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee. I also do not make any money from the writing of this story.
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one-sided ClintB/PhilC
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:** AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:** 484
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Talking"
> 
>  
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
>  
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
>  
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_
> 
>  
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Chapter VII**

**–Hogwarts Letter–**

7 May, 1991

"So where we're going from now on?" Nat asked Clint as she got out the van where Harry was still asleep.

Clint looked at her through the open window of the car where he was sitting behind the wheel and then grabbed a folder from the glove compartment as Nat walked around the car and entered, sitting at his side. Cling gave her the folder.

"That's my next target. Or SHIELDs."

Nat hummed, opening the folder and reading it.

"How do you get by this information?"

"When you entered SHIELD you taught me that I should study what SHIELD was really doing and that includes going back a few decades and find everything I could on their targets. Why they were targeted and all that. Coulson had found it hilarious that I was willing to study SHIELD's history and gave me access to their names, dates they attacked and why they were tracked down."

Nat smiled amused.

"So it's thanks to me that you won their attention again?"

Clint nodded.

"Yeah… who would've known that it would come in handy one day?"

"How do you manage to get all this information?"

"Library. The good side of looking like an undergraduate is that they allow me to stay hours in the locals' libraries and to print things without wondering what my degree has to do with those things." Clint argued amused. "It's the only time I see the good part of being in a body of a 20 years old."

"That does came in handy." Nat hummed and saved the folder again. "How much does Sacha knows? About the… _past_?"

"Only that I had a group of friends that we named ourselves Avengers and that Phillip, his name sake, died at the hands of a wizard."

Nat nodded.

"What are you going to do when SHIELD's finds you? Are you going to bring Sacha along?"

Clint shrugged and looked behind at hearing Harry leave the van in sports clothes and going for a morning jog just like Clint had done an hour ago.

"Stay where we can see you!" he said through the open window to his Son.

Harry turned at him and a smile debouched on his face. He approached and kissed Clint on the cheek over the open window.

"Morning Dad, Aunt Natasha." The boy said before he jogged away.

Clint looked amused at Nat as she looked at the boy wide-eyed at his acceptance of her into their little family.

"Yeah, he's like that. On the day after I adopted him he called me Dad only because I gave him his snake plush toy." He explained with a shrug. "He trusts too easily. Hell, he trusted me and we both know what I'm capable of doing."

Nat nodded, looking at the boy as we jogged in circles before the car where they had parked so they could see him.

"Not too trustful. He trusted you. He saw that he could trust you because you really wanted him. He is not ingenuous. He knows that he can trust me because you do."

"I don't trust you." Clint argued amused.

"And you shouldn't, I could kill you in the middle of the night and you don't even knowing better."

"Don't worry, Harry and I are light sleepers." Clint argued playfully to the amused woman. "Harry came from an abusive family, his own blood family picked on him. If someone is kind to him he'll show you all his heart without a second thought. He is kind, trustful and when people close to him get hurt it's like a stab to his own heart. His old magical tutor died on the day Harry went to live with my Brother. We argued, he said I would never be his Father and that Henry Barton wasn't his name."

"I said I was sorry." A voice argued from Clint's side.

Clint turned to Harry by his side and opened the door, letting Harry climb to his lap and pulling the chair back ways so they would have more space.

"I was just explaining Nat why we argued in the first place." Clint argued to the boy, hugging him tight. "And that today it's our day like I promised yesterday. So what do you want to do?"

"Now I want to stay here. Then I want a bath. I stink." The boy answered and Clint and Nat laughed.

"Morning jog does that to a person, chick. I stink as well."

"Minus Aunt Natasha. Why doesn't you stink?"

"Because she's a Lady, Harry, and ladies don't stink. They also don't jog when the sun rises like we do."

"And because you jog you're the best man at your work there is."

Nat snorted making Harry glare at her.

"I'm sure I could beat your Father easily."

"No one beats Dad." Harry argued. "Not even Uncle Barney and he was a harsh man."

Nat traded a look with Clint whose arms grew tighter, Clint couldn't yet quite believe he had actually killed Barney. The man could have let a man beat Clint almost to death and even claim that Clint had been the one at wrong the first time around but this time he hadn't done anything wrong… he had limited to raise Clint's kid for him.

"What is it?"

"The reason we've returned yesterday was because the agency who is after your Father and me would've used your Uncle to get to you and then to get to your Father."

Harry hummed and turned towards Clint.

"You had to go to protect me, right? To make sure no one knew of my existence. Right?"

Clint nodded.

"The agents were already there. Had Nat not persuaded me that I was being an idiot and they would have you. I've let you stay there to keep you safe and instead I put you at risk, both from the agency and from my enemies as if they would think it through they would find that a teenager used to use the Hawkeye name and the exact mask at that exact carnival, they would only need to ask around to know who I was and what you were to me."

Harry hummed and nodded letting his head fall on Clint's shoulder.

"I liked the carnival and the people who worked there… I hope that they're in a best place now."

"Your Wizardry World doesn't believe in god, Harry." Clint argued.

Harry nodded sadly.

"I know but I still hope. I mean my biological parents are there as well, aren't they?"

There was a moment of silence and then Clint nodded. It was the first time Harry actually mentioned them before him, normally it had to be Clint to bring them up.

"I'm sure your biological Father must be right now giving Barney the sermon of his after-life for the way he treated you when you were with him." Clint finally said and Harry rose his head smiling at Clint. "Like I'm sure my Mother is right now with your Mother and Kari cooing at us for this lame moment." He added to break the mood.

"Daaaaaaad." Harry screeched moving away from Clint and against the wheel at once.

**–CH–**

"You're telling me, that he was right there before you and you let him escape?" Director Fury asked yet again to the new recruit.

"Yes sir."

"And why would you let him escape?" The director asked angrily.

The recruit, Phillip Coulson, took a calming breath.

"Someone behind me was ready to kill me, if not for Hawkeye I would be dead now, sir. And Black Widow was with him."

"As if it wasn't troublesome enough to have a man in tights walking around pretending to be Robin Wood now he joined a Russian spy." Director Fury stopped walking back and forth and looked again to Phil. "You said he saved your life. Don't you think he just missed his target?"

"He told me to duck, sir. I'm certain that he had no idea of killing me."

"What about the Black Widow?"

"She helped him escape and when Hawkeye seemed reluctant of firing back at us she grabbed his gun and shoot a gas tank, exploding it so we couldn't follow them."

"Very well. Did you manage so save anything from the circus?"

"Some paperwork, sir."

"Then go look it up. See if Hawkeye show's up in any of those papers."

"Yes, sir." Phil said and bowed his head starting to leave but stopped by the door. "Sir?"

"What is it, Agent Coulson?"

"He said my name."

"What?" Director Fury looked up at Phil confused, his eye narrowed.

"Hawkeye said it, sir. When he found himself before me my first name left his lips before he even realized it. I think he knows me sir."

"Start looking up all of your friends and old friends then. Check each and every single one of them, make sure none of them is him."

"Yes, sir." Phil turned and left.

**–CH–**

July, 1991

Harry looked at the owl before him while massaging his eyes tiredly. He looked sideways to his Father sleeping on the ground and to his Aunt that was sleeping besides him and then stood going to grab the letter from the owl, turning a light open he sat, reading the letter. At once the two adults woke up and stood, looking at Harry with raised eyebrows. Harry showed the letter to his Dad.

"A school letter. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Harry explained and looked again to the letter. "It is addressed to a Mr H. Potter, Dad."

"What do you know about that school? Is it well situated? Does it have good guards? How are the grades?" Harry looked at his Aunt Natasha confused. "Otherwise why should we send you to a school? We could just get you a new tutor, can't we?" the woman argued and grabbed the letter reading it. "For starters they sent to the wrong person. You aren't a Potter any more. Not even in Wizardry World, so I take it you were inscribed when you were still a baby what means that they don't know that you aren't a Potter any more and that you don't live with the Dursleys any more. That can be a problem if they try to take you away from us."

Harry hummed, glancing at Dad who had just grabbed a bowl, the milk box and a cereal box that he put before Harry on the table.

"Nat's right, chick. I know that the potters used to go there, but you know what England expects of you. They want you to enter Hogwarts and fight this Dark Lord on the road for them."

"I'm not fighting anyone until I'll find both signs of the story. I'm no one's pawn."

Clint smiled at Harry and messed with the rest of Harry's bed messed hair.

"No you aren't. What does the letter says, Nat?" he asked as he served himself a glass of milk.

"That he has been accepted at Hogwarts and that there is a list of clothes and books he needs and that he should send a letter until the 31st." Nat answered. "Nothing that answers our questions." She added with a sneer. "What did they think? That Harry would just enter a new school that he never heard of without the minimum of information?"

"Most wizards my age must have already heard of Hogwarts because their parents went there before they did." Harry commented. "Luna said that it was what every child looked forward to… to stay away from their parents in a boarding-school."

"Do you want me to check with the goblins?" Clint asked.

"It's not like we have another option, is it?" Harry argued. "I mean. We don't have Kari any more to tutor me and what is the chance of us finding someone who will be so open-minded as she was?"

Clint kneeled before Harry.

"We'll find a way, don't worry." He said putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You're narrowing your eyes when you read… do you have issues with the letters?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, they're just too small you know? I mean everything is just too small and…" Clint snorted lowering his head, shaking it fondly. "What?"

"Why didn't you told me you needed glasses? When did you start noticing your eyesight issue?" Clint asked.

Harry blushed and lowered his head.

"Around 9 I think. I didn't want to get you worried, I…"

"You should have said, Sacha." Natasha argued. "Your eyes are important, I mean you can be blind and still be a good fighter, but if you have issues with your eyes or any other part of your body you need to learn how to fight it before it gets too late. As longer you don't use your glasses the longer your eyes grow worse."

Harry's eyes grew and he turned to Dad, deep red. Clint smiled and kissed Harry's forehead before standing.

"I'll contact the goblins, hopefully they know someone in the Wizardry World who can make glasses quickly. I don't really want to do it in the 'Muggle' World, takes way too long and on the run is not the best idea to stay in the same place for long."

"Ask them about tutors as well. And for home correspondence courses. So Sacha can self-teach himself at home without the need of going to an actual school and only getting periodical visits from tutors."

Clint hummed and grabbed the envelope grabbing the parchment from within and gave it to Natasha.

"Well, we already have which books he'll need for his first year." He pointed out and grabbed his phone leaving the caravan.

"Would it be easier if I went to these boarding-schools?" Harry asked Natasha.

The woman smiled and sat before him, serving his bowl with milk, then the cereals and finally pushing the bowl towards Harry.

"No. Clint would worry how you were 24/7 and wouldn't be able to think rationality. Even if you would be safe from our work it wouldn't mean that your Dad would be safe from his own worry." Harry nodded, biting the bottom of his lip. "And no, Sacha, don't even think of yourself as a burden, you're anything but a burden." Natasha added with a smile. "You are the good thing from your Dad. His reason to live." She said and Harry blushed. "Without you your Father would have gone rogue long ago. And I as well." She added with a smile. "Just don't tell your Dad I said that. I'll kill you in your sleep if you do."

Harry chuckled but nodded.

**(TBC)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** this is an updated chapter without being beta read, since my beta wasn't being able to beta it and readers kept asking me for it. Mistake Rewritten and Pet's War are also at the beta waiting for being betaed


	10. Chapter VIII  –New Tutor–

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry get's a new tutor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:**  none
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter or Marvel or any of the characters from the books or movies, they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee. I also do not make any money from the writing of this story.
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one sided ClintB/PhilC
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:**  AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  2,080
> 
> * * *
> 
>  
> 
> "Talking"
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Chapter VIII**

**–New Tutor–**

July, 1991

 “What is it?” Clint looked up at Nat as she approached him from where she’d left Harry on the swings in a local kid’s park. “You’re too thoughtful.”

“What kind of life is our life for a kid?”

“Do you want to send him away again?” she asked instead and Clint shook his head at once as Harry looked up towards them and grinned at Clint. “Then what is this about?”

“Just wondering if he would have been better off if I would’ve never adopted him.”

“He lived in an abusive family, right?”

“Yes.” Clint answered, not taking his eyes of his child.

“Then he wouldn’t be better off. He would be a very shy child who would do everything people told him to because of the way he was raised.” Clint tensed at the certain Nat said it. “He wouldn’t be as trustful. He wouldn’t trust adults as a whole. He would look at them and think of his family. How his family reacted to him, what is even worse. When people that is supposed to protect us turn against us is even worse than if you’re raised in an orphanage…”

“I know.” Clint answered making Nat turn at him with a raised eyebrow. “My Father was a drunkaholic and the first time around my Brother let a man from the circus beat me and because I refused to robe he left me to die when I was barely 18 years old. I run away this time before that would’ve happen. So Nat, I know how it feels to be under family abuse. But… I just wonder if the life I live is not much better, you know?”

“We aren’t better ourselves.” Nat agreed. “But look at Sacha and tell me that that smile on his face is not worth it all.” She argued pointing to Clint’s kid.

Clint looked up to find Harry laughing as he played with some kid he had just met.

**–CH–**

Severus Snape looked at the letter that that school Headmaster himself wanted him to deliver. According to the Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, they had already sent a couple of letters to the boy but no answer had been returned and although the Headmaster wanted to send Hagrid for the boy… the states wasn’t exactly on the other side of England. According to Albus Dumbledore the boy, Harry James Potter, Lily’s son, was living with his mother’s family, Petunia Dursley and her family. Snape sneered as he looked up to the caravan before him. He surely hoped that the Dursleys and the Potter brat were in there, he hadn’t just gone through the goblins and all the paperwork to visit the states for nothing. As he started to approach the place the caravan’s door opened and a black haired boy with the happiest smile left the place running.

“You can’t catch me…” the boy said playfully as a blond man come running after him.

Severus stopped in his tracks as the boy run at his full speed and the man ran after him. The lightning scar on the boy’s forehead was quite obvious on the boy’s forehead as he managed to outrun the other. Severus looked better at him, he was too young to be Petunia’s husband, unless the woman had went by a middle age crisis too early for her age and had remarried with a younger man. And then he heard a female laugh. Severus looked from where it came to see a dark ginger woman by the caravan’s door looking at the two running men.

“Come on, Clint, are you really going to get beaten by your own son?” the woman taunted.

The man, Clint, screamed at her something in Russian and then accelerated his speed only to suddenly grab young Harry by the arm making Harry fall and Clint on top of him.

“Chick… are you okay?” The man asked at once, getting out of top of the boy and turning Harry around.

“I'm fine, Dad…” the boy argued sitting. “It’s not fair… you have bigger legs than I do!”

Clint laughed sitting at Harry Potter’s side and messing with his hair.

“Don’t worry, chick, one day you’ll be as tall as I am. You saw your biological parents pictures… they were just as tiny as you are.”

“HEY!!! I'm not tiny.” The boy screeched getting the hand out of his hair and tried to comb it down with his own hand. “Aunt Nat says I'm compact… isn’t it, Auntie?” the boy asked to the woman. “Auntie?” the boy asked again, turning towards her.

Severus looked as well only to see her looking around her area, she had most likely felt that they were being watch. At once Harry Potter and his adopted father Clint stood and entered the caravan. Severus frowned as Clint and Nat passed from two playful people to very tense people expecting an attack, both adults had already their hands behind their back on their belt where they were grabbing something that Severus could’ve swear was a gun. What kind of twisted family had Potter gotten himself into?

Severus approached the caravan and at once both turned towards him, even though Severus didn’t carry anything on his hands they didn’t relax.

“Good afternoon. I am Professor Snape from Hogwarts School. I was told you got our letter beforehand.” He said as he approached.

The two muggles seemed to finally relax. The man, Clint, looked inside the caravan and, immediately after, Harry appeared.

“Yes, we got a letter to one H. Potter.” Clint answered.

Severus hummed at noticing the way the man said the name. Obviously Potter had been adopted what meant the name had also change… Fool Dumbledore, why hadn’t he kept tabs on the boy? Like he said he would do?

“You didn’t answer.” Severus drawled when none of them made a move to introduce themselves.

“Because I'm not a Potter.” Lily’s child stated. “And because like Aunt said… we don’t know nothing of your school, why would Dad sent me to a school he knows next to nothing without even a pamphlet telling us the basics like where is situated, if it has good guards, how the grades are…” the boy looked up to the woman and then again to Snape. “Besides the school sent a letter to a name I had before I was adopted what means that people expect me to be my biological parents’ child. I'm not. I'm Dad’s son.”

Severus looked at the two adults, they still saw him as a threat although they were hiding it better.

“And if you don’t go to school where you would go to learn then?” Severus drawled to the brat, because this was giving him a headache.

“I had a tutor before…” the brat said, shrugging. “Besides I'm American, there must be schools in the States… so, Professor Snape, the answer to yours schools letters were quite obvious when we didn’t answer as it was a no.”

**–CH–**

“Ah, Severus, how is young Harry?” Dumbledore asked with his huge smile as Severus entered the man’s office.

McGonagall and a man that Severus recognised as Quirinus Quirrel, most likely the man was proposing himself to return as a Professor but it couldn’t be to Muggle Studies as that class already had a teacher.

“Young Harry is not a Harry anymore.” Severus hissed making everyone look at him confused. “Harry Potter was adopted by an American over 3 years ago. He doesn’t go by the name of Harry Potter anymore and he refuses to go to a British school.”

“Are you certain of this, Severus?” Dumbledore asked.

“I'm certain, the boy did all the talking.” Severus drawled. “Next time, don’t send me to go check on a student that doesn’t even want to come to Hogwarts.” He added before turning around and leaving the office.

There was something about the boy and his family that he couldn’t quite place.

“Does he live with muggles?” Quirrel’s voice asked as the man run to accompany him.

“Adoptive American Father and adoptive Russian Aunt, both muggles.” Severus answered and Quirrel hummed. “They are warriors and thought I was a threat. They also intend on teaching him with a tutor, two tutors if they have to as they want for him to know both magical and muggle teaching.”

“Do they now…?” Quirrel asked amused before they went separate ways, Quirrel leaving Hogwarts and Severus going to his office on the dungeons.

**–CH–**

Harry sat on the car with a bored look as Dad and Aunty tried to rationalize where to go next, none of them agreeing on the path to go next. Especially after a Hogwarts teacher had appeared on their safe cocoon. He glanced up when the two kept arguing over the map and their next target outside, while the phone was ringing inside the car. When none of them made a reaction to be listening to the phone he unfastened his car belt and moved to the front, grabbing his Dad’s mobile phone.

“Henry Barton.” Harry stated as soon as he accepted the call.

“Young Barton, it is from Gringotts. Is your Father available?”

Harry glanced up and none of the spies seemed to realize something was off.

“No.”

“Very well then. It came to our understanding that Hogwarts sent a Professor to welcome you to their school, is this correct?”

“It is.”

“Even though Mr Barton had already requested for you to be home taught in our files.”

“Yes.”

“That desire is to stay, am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“We have in touch with us a wizard who has both muggle and wizardry background and is offering himself for the job as your tutor.”

“Oh…” Harry glanced up. “Hmmm… is it possible to send his curriculum and what he would teach me and… his ideals on what I should follow in the war?”

“It will be done, Young Barton.” The goblin said before turning off the call.

Harry opened his window and put his head off.

“I have a tutor proposal!” at once the two adults looked at him. Harry showed the phone. “Gringotts just called, apparently there is a tutor that is willing to teach me in both non-magic and magic ways.”

“Name?” Auntie asked.

“The goblin is going to send his curriculum and what not over an owl.”

Dad hummed and approached picking the phone.

“Next time call me so I could speak with him first.”

Harry shrugged.

“And interrupt your argument? Last time I almost got shot.” He argued pointedly, looking dead on at Auntie’s arm that was already grabbing the gun that she had hidden on her belt.

Dad glanced at the woman and then at Harry, sighing.

“You’re right, Chick. Let’s hope their owl is fast, I'm not going to stop the car because of it.” he added before pointing at Auntie. “You drive.”

Auntie smiled and picked the maps entering the car and giving them to Dad, finally driving away from there.

“We need to teach you to protect yourself, mal'chik. If I hadn’t realized it was you at the last moment I could have hit you last time.” Dad opened his mouth ready to argue but Auntie glared at him. “I don’t care what you think of it. We both were taught to shoot to kill and we both know that we aren’t the worse that is out there.”

Dad groaned and looked the other day.

“I don’t like this.”

“It’s not meant for you to like. Besides if his new tutor is any good he’ll teach him how to defend himself with magic.” Auntie argued. “It’s not like I'm suggesting for Sacha to learn how to grab a gun and how to shoot…”

Dad glared at her.

“No, you’re not.” He conceded but at the same time he seems distrustful of the woman.

“Do I have a say in this?” Harry asked.

Both adults turned on their seats towards him.

“No!” they both said as one, authoritarian.

Harry huffed, crossing his arms and looking outside.

“It was just a suggestion…”

**(TBC)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi
> 
> No beta again
> 
> Next: Hawkeye's get caught…
> 
> ~Isys


	11. Chapter IX  –Chick Sacha–

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkeye's get caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:**  none
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter or Marvel or any of the characters from the books or movies, they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee. I also do not make any money from the writing of this story.
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one sided ClintB/PhilC, one sided LokiOdinson/HP
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:**  AU fanfiction, Crossover, slash
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  2,388
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Talking"
> 
>  
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
>  
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
>  
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_
> 
>  
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Chapter IX**

**–Chick Sacha–**

1995

“Duck!” Hawkeye shouted, pushing Black Widow to the floor.

Hawkeye looked up, his eyes narrowing at the agents trying to get them.

“We should separate.” Black Widow suggested as the two stood and started to run away.

Hawkeye looked behind himself and then to Black Widow.

“They put other agents on us.” He hissed and stopped, turning to the agents.

Black Widow didn’t stop, continuing to run. Hawkeye narrowed his eyes as the group of agents started to surround him, so they thought he was more important than Black Widow? Big Mistake!

**–CH–**

Phil looked as the agents were defeated one after the other. They were fighting as one and still Hawkeye was winning. Director Fury had told him to bring the best men and still none of them were being able to grab the marksman. Phil sighed and left the car and approached the group.

“Sir, I advise you to lower your weapons and surrender quietly.” He warned and simultaneously the man with his back to him stopped any movement, only to be pinned to the floor and his arms be forced behind his back with handcuffs. “Don’t!” Phil ordered when one of the agents was about to take the mask from Hawkeye. “I’ll take care of him, find the spy that you let escape!”

The agents nodded and run after Black Window that had stopped and looked at them unsure of what to do. Phil approached Hawkeye and pulled him to his feet and pulled him to the car. Not even once the man made a move to free himself. Hawkeye entered the back seat without a problem and even surrendered his weapons without a move of his part. The man was hard to get so why was he being so easy?

**–CH–**

“Sir, I would like to require for the right to interrogate him myself.”

Director Fury nodded and Phil left the office going to the interrogation room where Hawkeye was locked to a chair, his mask still on. Phil pulled from a chair and sat before him.

“I wondered if they would’ve send you after all.” Hawkeye mumbled to himself.

Phil opened the file he had managed to acquire on Hawkeye.

“So, Hawkeye, isn’t it?” the man nodded, his brown eyes behind the mask looking directly at Phil’s face as if taking every bit of Phil’s details. “Do you mind if I take your mask?”

“I do, but you’ll take it anyway, so why the formality, Agent Philip?”

“A mask is part of you custom, I refused for it to be taken previously as the person under the mask might not be the Hawkeye that I'm seeing but another entirely person.”

Hawkeye opened his mouth to reply but closed it again as if to think on the answer.

“The person under the mask is not Hawkeye.” He finally answered.

Phil nodded and turned to the files.

“You started your life working in a circus, am I correct?” Hawkeye nodded. “One day you suddenly left and decided to start killing for money instead of the circus act.”

“You have to do what is needed for living.” Hawkeye argued with a smirk at the corner of his lips. “Why, weren’t those men on your to kill list?” he argued.

“How would you know that?” Phil asked.

“Maybe I managed to get inside your secret data base and to steal all of your secret information…” Hawkeye answered with a provocative tone.

Phil tilted his head to the side, was Hawkeye just provoking him or was he actually hinting on him?

The door opened, Phil looked back ready to argue when he found his body stuck to the chair. The person that entered passed past Phil and approached Hawkeye, had a black dress over him/herself… or what Phil thought looked like a dress. The person had a golden mask over the face in the form of a skull. The person looked directly at Phil and Phil noticed bright green eyes evaluating him from under the black hood and golden mask.

“I can see why you let yourself be caught.” The voice, that was obviously male, said. From the tone of voice it was still a teen, in his 14s or 16s, at the time where their tone of voice sometimes was too high. If Phil could he would have frowned, he didn’t remember letting himself being caught. “He does seem your type.” The teen peeked at Hawkeye with a scowl. “Honestly, couldn’t you be any more direct?” the teen added.

“Sacha, what are you doing here? Didn’t I told you that if I ever get caught to run? And where the hell did you find this mask?”

The teen, Sasha, turned directly to Hawkeye.

“You also taught me that no place is too dangerous to assault as long as your ready to do it and for the right price… and my tutor lent me the mask and robe.”

“And what are you robbing?”

“You, Dad.” The teenager answered tilting his head to the side.

Hawkeye shook his head as if fondly, while Phil’s eyes widened. There was nothing on the file about a child!

“You are unbelievable.” The man said, fondly. “Will you release me then?”

Sasha laughed and approached his ‘Father’.

“There, there…” he placated and, with a move of his hand his small staff in his hand enlarged to walking-stick size, he passed it over Hawkeye’s hands and legs that were immediately freed. With another flick of his hand and the walking-stick resized back to hand-size and he saved it in his pocket. Sasha pointed with his head to Phil. “What’s the man’s name?”

Hawkeye stood, massaging his wrists where the handcuffs had been.

“Phillip Coulson.”

Sasha rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Daaad…” the teenager whined. “Sometimes you’re sooooo obvious.”

“Shut up and lets go, Chick.”

By the time Phil managed to move the two were long gone. Phil frowned, looking at the handcuffs, how had Sasha done that?

**–CH–**

“Wait a moment! You are telling me that it was a mere teenager who managed to pass all of my best men without doing a thing except a flick of his staff? A mere teenager?”

“Yes sir.”

“Go back to the circus papers. If Hawkeye worked there then his son must have been there as well.”

Phil nodded.

“Sir…?”

“Anything else?”

“Hawkeye’s son, Chick Sasha, implied something about…” It surely was nothing, but… “Gay, sir.”

“How did he imply that?”

“He implied that he let himself get caught when I captured him.”

Fury frowned, looking directly at Phil. Phil felt like a child as the director took in what he had said.

“Find him.” Phil nodded, bowing his head and turned to leave. “And when you do, court him.”

Phil’s eyes grew.

**–CH–**

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”

Harry shivered as Clint kept fighting with Nat in a body-to-body combat battle. Dad was furious, that much was obvious.

“I couldn’t exactly attack SHIELD on my own, could I?” Auntie asked, giving her own set of kicks to Dad and making him step back.

“HE’S BARELY FIFTEEN! ARE YOU INSANE?”

“It’s too early for you to get caught! You need them to want you! Not to see you as someone to capture and send to jail!” Auntie hissed, missing Dad’s head with a strong kick by inches.

Harry shivered. The two were angry… it wouldn’t end pretty!

**–CH–**

In a dark office, filled with bookcases that were packed with tons of tomes was one single yew desk, behind said desk was a black chair and in said desk was a man. If you would enter the office you wouldn’t notice the man at first, you would first be amazed at the small library in such a small office, only then you would notice the desk and, only then, you would be able to feel the red eyes of the man behind said desk that had been watching your every move with the attention of a hawk. Hidden by his hood you wouldn’t be able to see the man clearly, but there was no need, the red eyes just for itself gave the man away. They showed the taint in the man’s own soul, the amount of blood the man had already offered to Death in trade for his own.

A black cat with green eyes appeared coming from under one of the bookcases, as expected immediately the man’s red eyes were locked on it.

“Did something happen?” the man hissy voice could give anyone a heart attack out of fear, but not this cat.

Never this cat.

The cat stood on his back legs as his body grew and rouse in height. Finally it was a man instead of a cat that was there. This man had a helmet on his head with two horns.

“His Father and Aunt are at the point of maiming each other. They need a voice of reason. I'm certain Harry would be a mess to deal with if his family killed each other.”

The red-eyed man nodded as he stood, his hood fell back at his movement showing a serpentine nose and a lipless lips.

“Wouldn’t it be just easier if I took the boy in?”

“It would but Asgardians are men of their word. I gave my word to his Father that if he took Harry in I would give him the means to get his late lover back.”

“I suppose I can understand that, Lord Loki.” The red-eyed man conceded. “I just don’t understand why you hadn’t contacted the boy yet.”

Loki grimaced.

“It’s too soon… he is too young.”

“He is doom to start looking for someone - either it be the opposite sex or not – for a romantic relationship.”

“He is only fifteen.”

“And Midgardians grow faster than Asgardians… they also live only 80/150 - the age depending if your magical or not… although there are wizards that live until their 300 - years.”

“You won’t let him have such a small life stream, Lord Voldemort.” Loki argued.

The red-eyed man, Voldemort was his name, nodded in agreement.

“Indeed I will make sure he won’t die. Being my horcrux and your future betrothed is not someone who has a right to die without a fight, Lord Loki. But this doesn’t stop the fact that my apprentice has already been given the Talk by his Aunt when she noticed him checking out a maiden in a inn that they were eating at… while his Father had been having a one-night-stand with an unknown male not far away from the boy.”

Loki sneered in disgust.

“You should never be with someone if that someone isn’t you’re the one.”

“Midgardians nowadays don’t care about those kind of things…” Voldemort explained with a light bow of his head, barely noticeable, as he did so his facial features changed. Voldemort’s serpentine nose turned to a human nose, his lipsless lips won rose lips and his bald head won black hair with a few flicks of white here and there. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Lord Loki, I have two spies to break apart before they make my horcrux orphan… again.”

“I should go as well, before the All Father notices I'm gone.”

Loki turned to leave but stopped, taking a hand to his pocked and taking a small bracelet. It was simple, barely noticeable. It had been moulded in Asgard great furnaces from the richest metal ever found on the whole Yggdrasil. It had been done by the hands of Loki himself, as so as requested to be made in Asgard to give their betrothed as a show of their compromise. Loki turned to Voldemort who accepted the bracelet without even a comment about what it meant. The Dark Lord had studied the Asgardians ways for as long as the man had existed, he would know what Loki was giving him meant and whom it belonged to.

“Won’t the All Father notice that you have given It?”

“Harry is under an invisibility spell since his father took him in, neither Him nor Heimdall will be able to see to whom I have given It.”

“He will have to find out eventually.”

“I know… but until He does I’ll keep Harry hidden from Him. He is too young by Asgardian counts and has a too short life stream. Until we take care of that the All Father can’t see me with Harry… He’ll mess with our future again.”

“Taking over Midgardian to attempt to take your lover who had been under a memory charm and a love potion doesn’t exactly work to win your lover back.”

Loki smirked.

“And that is why I found a way to keep Harry away from bad influences. To give us a second chance.” The trickster demi-god said before disappearing.

**–CH–**

Harry glanced to the side at the sound of apparation, only to see his mentor, Tom Riddle, take his wand from his pocket and send each spy to each side of the clearing.

“Riddle.” Harry stated accordingly, bowing his head like the man had taught him.

The wizard approached with a nod of his own head and offered Harry a bracelet.

“Put this on and never take it off.”

Harry frowned, accepting the trinket. His mentor would never give him something that was harmful to him, even so, the man had also never gave him something with the order of never taking it off.

“May I wonder what this is before I put it on?”

“A gift from someone who cares about you and wants to keep you protected and safe at all time… it was him who sent me when he realized your family’s quarrel.” The wizard explained, before he approached both spies as the two started to approach each other ready for round two.

Harry looked back at the bracelet. What had Riddle meant by that?

“Riddle, which arm?”

“Left.” The wizard said without looking back or even vacillating in his speech, as the wizard reprimanded both spies, giving them the lecture of their lives.

Harry smiled amused at the sight before putting on the bracelet. He felt a warm coming up his arm all the way to his heart and then to the rest of his body. Whatever it was he had just put on his arm, had made him feel wanted and safe. Something only Dad had ever managed to do.

**(TBC)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi
> 
> I'm surprised only one person found out about Loki being the stray cat that kept appearing from time-to-time
> 
>  **Next:**  Phil finds the Bartons…
> 
> ~Isys


	12. Chapter X  –Discoveries–

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil finds the Bartons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:**  none   
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter or Marvel or any of the characters from the books or movies, they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee. I also do not make any money from the writing of this story.   
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one sided ClintB/PhilC, one sided LokiOdinson/HP   
>  **Warnings in this chapter:**  AU fanfiction, Crossover, slash   
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  2,154 
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Talking"  
>  _"Talking in another language than English"_  
>  'Thinking'  
> –Parseltongue–   
>  _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_  
>  Time change/Date of time

**Chapter X**

**–Discoveries–**

1995

“Sir?” The black one eyed man, looked up at the agent entering with one page. “I found Chick Sasha.”

At once the director grabbed the paper and read it.

“How so?”

“I meant his technique, sir. A 10 years old boy who played around the circus with a staff making it grow and degrow with a simple trick of his hands… making ‘magic tricks’ for anyone willing to pay a dollar.” The agent explaining, pointing at the exact paragraph with the mentioned subject.

The director read it closely and then gave the paper back.

“Well done, Agent Coulson. Now who is this boy?”

“The nephew of one of workers, Charles _‘Barney’_ Barton. He was a swordsman I think.”

“Where is Mr Barton?”

“Dead, sir.” Fury raised an eyebrow. “He was the man Hawkeye warned me about, before he killed him.”

Fury returned to what he had been doing.

“Find Barton Senior and Junior.”

Phil bowed his head and turned, leaving.

**–CH–**

Harry huffed with a sigh. Since Dad had seen that Agent he had grown broodier than ever. Dad didn’t even knew the man! So what if the man was a look alike, was an agent and even was named Philip? That didn’t make him THE Philip. Harry looked up from his dinner that he was picking on to the counter where Dad was hinting on a man. Aunt not far away from him, with a drink in hand. She had threatened that he would either come with her for a drink or she would kick his ass to kingdom kong… knowing the woman she was quite able to do so. So Dad had agreed on following her to a bar with Harry, giving Harry a ‘real’ dinner while the two stuffed their necks with drinks and hint on the men on the bar. IT WAS EMBARRASSING!

Harry should have learnt by now to stay in the caravan… honestly!

“You shouldn’t pick on your food, you know?” a male voice asked as someone sat by his side.

Harry jumped on his seat and his small staff immediately flew to his hand as he turned to the man. The man grabbed Harry’s hand, lowering it down with a smile in place. Harry’s eyes grew. It was… it was that agent!

“Ex-excuse me?”

“The food has done you no wrong, I'm afraid… Sasha, isn’t it?”

“You must be confounding me with someone else, sir.”

Agent Philip smiled. He even had the smile that sometimes attracted Dad in the men he hinted on.

“My name is Philip, Philip Coulson.” The man introduced with a nod and when the bartender approached he turned to him with a smile. “I would like the same as my nephew.”

The bartender picked a look at Harry who smiled back and then the man nodded.

“Right away, sir.”

Harry waited for the man to leave before losing the smile.

“You’re not my Uncle!”

“Would you have preferred if I had used the term father?” the agent asked instead. “And do save that, it’s time for dinner after all.”

Harry hissed, but pocketed his staff again.

“Why are you here?”

“Obviously, Sasha…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Until you tell me your name, that’s the name I’ll use.”

“Henry… and it’s Sacha. You’re doing the wrong accentuation.” Harry blushed at his slip. “I mean…”

Philip smiled.

“Henry Phillip Sacha Barton, it is.”

Harry’s eyes grew.

“If you already knew my name then why…” Harry peeked to where Dad and Aunt were and then back to the agent. “Why isn’t the whole agency here?”

“Because unless you want your Dad to end up dead…” Harry shook his head at once. “Then I'm here to understand how your Dad’s mind works. Who he is, why he does what he does. The man behind the mask.”

“Why you?”

Coulson opened his mouth to answer but stopped and then the bartender served him. When they were alone again, the agent started to eat while looking pointedly at Harry. Harry blushed but followed suite.

“Because I was the only one your Dad showed a sign of even a little respect. Besides, he knew my name even before he met me. I'm interested to know why.”

Harry hummed, when he opened his mouth to speak a glare from Coulson made him close it again and swallow what he had in there.

“My namesake… was an Agent named Philip. He died before Dad had even heard of me. He most likely called you by that name because you are the first person I ever met that takes all the requisites for Dad’s one-night-lovers…” Harry looked down at his plate, picking on it. “You are the first to have almost if not all the resemblances… except that you’re too young. From what I gathered he was way older than you.”

“So I look like an old lover from your Dad? And even share a name?”

Harry shrugged.

“He was never really Dad’s lover. More like someone Dad fancied but never got the guts to admit it… and now he fucks with every look alike he meets.” The teen groaned looking up to his Dad kissing the other man.

Coulson hummed, drawing Harry’s attention back to him.

“How do you prefer to be called?”

“Harry… everyone calls me Harry. Except for Aunt, but it was because of her that I got my Russian name anyway so it’s normal that she insists on calling me that at all time.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Harry. You can call me Phil.”

Harry found himself smiling.

“No agent tittle?”

Phil shook his head, drinking from his juice that only then Harry noticed was the exact same as Harry. Harry blushed at realizing that the bartender had given the man exactly everything alike how Harry had requested, even to the point of no mushrooms.

“We are both here to meet under the mask, so no agency from me.” The man explained.

“You know… you didn’t need to ask the same as me… I know I'm a little pickie on my food but…”

“This is exactly how I eat my food.” Phil argued. “But I do not play with my food.”

Harry went ever redder and stopped stabbing his meat and instead put it in his mouth.

“Henry.” Harry looked up as in no moment both Aunt and Dad had sat by their table. “You should have called us at once!” Dad hissed under his lips so only Harry would hear, sitting in a position to keep himself between Harry and the ‘stranger’.

“Phil just wanted to meet you, Dad… the real you.” Harry argued. “Besides you were busy making out with the man by the bar.” Clint turned to Harry ready to scold him when Harry grinned mischievously. “Don’t worry I withheld all the embarrassing old stories… for later blackmail.”

“Henry Barton!”

“I sure hope to hear them one of these days, Harry.” Phil said with a chuckle.

Just like Harry expected just the voice made his Dad tense shoulders relax and although his facial expression become impassive, his eyes showed longing. Clint turned to Phil.

“Who are you and why are you here?”

“Eating dinner… someone has to keep Harry company and teach him manners while other people instead let him do as he wishes just so they can snog the first face they see.”

Harry blushed and lowered his head, starting to pick on his food again. Before he could stab his tomato one more time, a hand grabbed his, stopping him effectively. Glancing up he could see a mere rose colour on his Dad’s face as Phil grabbed Harry’s hand over the table.

“That is not the way to cut food, Harry.”

Harry felt Dad tense and he could see clearly some kind of déjà vu pass by his Dad’s eyes.

**–CH–**

Life was finally going good. Dad had finally stopped with the one-night stands, sure they were still on the run and Dad and Aunt were still killers for hire. Harry glanced at his family as the two were arguing over the local computer on the local public library, before turning around and leaving the library. A man in his middle 30s in a suit was there, leaning against a car parked on the side-road. At noticing Harry he took his sun-glasses and looked at Harry, smiling. Yep, life was good.

“Hello, Harry.”

Harry grinned, approaching.

“Should I warn Dad and Aunt that you caught on to us again?”

Phil made an outraged look.

“What? You were supposed to be hiding?”

Harry chuckled and popped on the hood of the red Chevrolet that Phil was leaning against.

“Nice car.”

Phil raised an eyebrow at Harry, crossing his arms. Harry almost expected for him to start tapping his foot on the ground. Groaning, Harry got out of on top of the car and immediately Phil cleaned the spot Harry had sat on.

“You really do need some manners teaching.”

Harry huffed.

“Don’t let my mentor hear you say that… he would give me quite the earmouth.”

“When I meet him, I will.” Phil agreed, only for Harry to groan. He was soooo dead. “Seat.”

Harry looked at Phil puzzled only to see him pointing directly to the seats in the car. Harry grinned and walked around the car entering and sitting, Phil sat by the wheel.

“Where are you taking me today?”

“Lunch. It’s pass eating time. Can’t believe your Father lets you pass so much time unguided.”

“Dad’s inside with Aunt working… I mean…” Harry added looking at the agent, tensing.

Phil looked from the road towards Harry and then back to the road.

“You do know I can’t let him continue with what he does, don’t you?”

“I do… But Dad and Aunt are the best there is on what they do… the only reason you aren’t dead yet is because of me.”

Phil nodded, not arguing.

“Your family could work with me at the agency… if they would stay still long enough to listen to orders.”

Harry hummed, looking out the window.

“Aunt used to work to an agency when I first met her. A Russian agency. Dad stopped her attack back then. It was then that I went to Uncle Barney at the circus. When Aunt found out she screamed some sense into Dad and forced him to come get me… on the day you three met.”

Phil hummed, stopping the car before a diner.

“So I missed you by a couple of hours. It’s good to know that your Aunt was there to put some sense into your Father. It was me, but it could have been your Dad or your Aunt’s enemies. And trust me they have made quite the lot.”

Harry got out of the car a little dejectedly at leaving the car what made Phil grin.

“I know. I was what… 7? when Dad adopted me. I was with him all the way.”

“Did he usually left you alone?” Phil asked as they entered and sat.

Harry shook his head.

“My first tutor, Kari, used to look over me while Dad went to ‘work’. He had the rule of never leaving me alone. Besides back then we lived on motels.” Harry smiled at the waiter when he approached. “A burger, please.” Phil coughed. “And a soup.”

The waiter turned to Phil.

“Just coffee for me, thank you.”

The waiter nodded and left. Harry looked at the man walking away and took a hand to his bracelet at the way it warmed up.

“After I returned to Dad, Aunt was with us and we had the caravan. Besides you saw me… I can take care of myself.”

“Yes I saw what you did to me… I'm still working on believing it… and understanding it.”

Harry grinned and pretended to zip his mouth, what won him a fake glare from the agent.

“Here it is…” Harry looked up as the waiter returned with their food, serving Harry his soup and Phil his coffee. “Would you want anything to drink?”

Harry opened his mouth to ask for a coke but a glance at Phil made him think better.

“Just a bottle of water, thanks.”

The waiter nodded with a smile.

“No problem.”

Harry watched as he turned around and returned to the counter.

“I see that fighting skills is not everything you inherited from your Father…”

“Wha….?” Harry turned to Phil confused as the man smiled into his coffee.

“You were practically checking out the waiter.”

“I was not!” Harry found his eyes turning back to the waiter, who was happening to look back and winked back. Harry blushed and turned to Phil at once as his bracelet warmed really hot. “O.M.S.… Don’t tell Dad…”

Phil smiled and did a movement Harry would’ve never picture him doing: he pretended to zip his own mouth. Harry massaged the bracelet, trying to cool it down so it wouldn’t burn him.

**(TBC)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi  
> Thanks to [Melin_On_Asgard](http://archiveofourown.org/users/melin_on_asgard/pseuds/melin_on_asgard) who helped me giving a title to this chapter even though she’d never read this crossover before  
>  **Next:** Harry’s anniversary…  
> ~Isys


	13. Chapter XI  –Special Day–

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** none
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter or Marvel or any of the characters from the books or movies, they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee. I also do not make any money from the writing of this story.
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one sided ClintB/PhilC
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:**  AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:** 2,391
> 
> "Talking"
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Chapter XI**

**–Special Day–**

31 July, 1995

“Henry.”

Harry looked up as he ate his pie, a fork practically hanging from his mouth with the way he was looking at the man that had entered the diner that Phil had taken him to today. Harry tensed and leaned the fork down at once, standing. He bowed his head and offered the seat at his side. The dark man nodded and sat, only when he sat did Harry sat again.

“It’s summer, Riddle… I thought…” Riddle rolled his eyes and when the waiter approached he raised one eyebrow at Harry, pointing at the muggle with his eyes. Harry turned towards the waiter. “An English breakfast, please.”

The waiter nodded and turned around, leaving.

“Where’s your family?”

“Dad and Aunt are out looking over something I'm not supposed to know.” Harry answered, sending Phil an _‘I’m sorry’_ look.

Riddle hummed, gave one glance at Phil.

“Why are you with this stranger on this special day?”

Harry frowned confused.

“Special…?”

Riddle chuckled, shaking his head knowingly but besides that his face didn’t show any reaction at all. By now Harry was used to it, it was how the wizard was. Yes, Riddle knew how to fake his facial expressions, but when with Harry he had stopped faking because Harry had started to be able to see under them early on. How… Harry didn’t know, just that he was. The waiter approached and served Riddle his breakfast, before filling Phil’s cup of coffee and leaving.

“You are unbelievable, Henry. What day is it today?”

Harry shrugged.

“31st of July?” he asked puzzled.

“Was that a question, Young Henry?”

Harry scratched the back of his head, hating when Riddle called him young.

“Today is 31st of July, Master.”

Riddle hummed, nodding and started to eat. Harry frowned, sure there had to be something special today for Riddle to came during holidays, normally the man avoided him like the plague when he wasn’t mentoring him so why… Harry noticed an understanding look appear on Phil’s face who was acting as if he wasn’t even there, as if he was oblivious of the fact that he was being ignored by Harry’s mentor.

“And what happened on this day in 1980?” Riddle asked, before sipping from his tea.

“1980…?” Harry asked puzzled only for his eyes to grow and his face go deep red. Harry coughed into his fist, trying to control his embarrassment. “My birthdate.”

Riddle looked at Harry, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

“So you do remember.”

“It’s not a date I usually celebrate…” Harry mumbled ashamed.

“Obviously.” Riddle hissed and looked at the muggle and then at Harry with a raised eyebrow. “You haven’t introduced me to your friend, yet…”

“Oh…” –I thought… he is muggle.– Riddle raised an eyebrow. “Riddle, this is Agent Phil Coulson. Phil, this is my tutor: Master Riddle.”

Phil nodded his head at Riddle. A glimpse of recognition passed though Riddle’s eyes.

“The Philip?”

“No, The Philip is dead.” Harry argued. “Besides The Philip had a girlfriend… Phil’s single.” He added, winking at Phil.

“Besides I'm not here for Clinton, but for Harry.” Phil argued. “It’s a pleasure finally meeting you, sir. Harry speaks highly of you.”

Harry went deep red, as Riddle looked at him impressed.

“Don’t say that, you’re only going to boost his ego further than it already is…”

“It is only as big as it should be.” Riddle argued, drinking from his tea with a smile playing with the corner of his lips. “You’re an agent, are you here to arrest Henry’s family? Do I have to get rid of you?”

Harry tensed, turning to Riddle as suddenly a dark aura surrounded the man, threateningly.

“I’m here to keep Harry company and make sure he eats since his Father and Aunt don’t. As an agent I'm here to find more about his family under the mask, as a man I’m here as a friend.” Phil looked at Harry, smiling. “Finish eating, Harry.” The black haired, green eyed teen blushed and returned towards his pie. “But I’m also here to stop them from making another attack without an agency to tell them to do so.”

Riddle hummed, taking a box from his muggle suit pockets and putting it before Harry when he was done eating, without looking at Harry once. Harry glanced at the two adults as he was completely ignored. He shrugged to himself and opened the box, it wasn’t every day he got gifts from Riddle after all. As he opened the package – no wrapping paper, he noticed but then again it was the Dark Lord – he remembered something.

“Riddle?”

“What is it, Henry?” Riddle asked, looking away from whatever conversation he had been having with Phil, Harry hadn’t heard what they’d said - he had gotten used to turning conversations off with Clint, when he and Nat would discuss attacking plans with Harry present.

“Can you do something about the bracelet? It almost burnt me last week… and cooling” –charm– “almost wasn’t enough to turn it down.”

Riddle looked at the bracelet in silence and put his hand over it, grabbing Harry’s wrist. Harry felt his dark magic over it before the man released him and turned back towards Phil.

“Cool down your hormones instead of the bracelet.”

Harry frowned, looking at the bracelet and then to the Dark Lord.

“Are you implying that this is a restraining bracelet? A…” Harry blushed. “A chastity bracelet?”

The Dark Lord smirked.

“As amusing as the term of such” –a spell– “is, no. The bracelet is” –linked– “to the person who gave it to you. The burning you feel? Is the jealously of the person because you look to other people that aren’t him.”

“So it is a Him.” Harry mumbled looking at the ordainment on his wrist. “Who is him? Why is this person jealous? We never even met.”

Riddle sighed, turning towards Harry.

“Sometimes I resent your curiosity.”

“Dad taught me to always ask, to never hold back.”

Riddle’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes… those muggles who you were with… anyway, I gave you homework over the holidays, didn’t I?” Harry nodded confused. “Have you started?” The teen shook his head. “When you finish then you can ask that question again. You know my rules, don’t ask if you can find it yourself.”

Grudgingly, Harry returned towards his package.

“What could Norse legends has to do with my bracelet?” he mumbled under his breath hoping not to be heard.

Harry tensed as suddenly Riddle had grabbed his chin and forced him to look directly into the man’s eyes, red passing through them as a slight decontrol on the man’s glamours.

“Do not forget, my Henry, I may give you lenience like I don’t give anyone. But don’t abuse of it. If I tell you it has to do with it, then start studying it!” Riddle narrowed his eyes when Harry didn’t react. “Do you _Understand_?”

“Yes, my Lord!”

Riddle released his chin and his magic, leaving Harry breathless - Hell, when had the bastard taken hold onto Harry’s magical core? - before turning back towards Phil as if nothing had happened. With shivering hands Harry grabbed his package and finished opening it.

**–CH–**

Clint stretched his back as he and Nat looked over the last details for the next target. He certainly wouldn’t miss this part of the job when he would enter the agency…

“Where’s Sacha?” Nat asked, looking up from the papers.

“He left early, most likely he is in the best diner you can find with Phil.” Clint answered with a shrug.

Clint didn’t need to look at his friend to see a smirk play with the corner of her lips.

“Funny thing how the agent instead of concentrating on us, started to take care of Sacha.”

Clint stood to stretch his legs, he surely didn’t enjoy staying still for long hours.

“He was the first handler who managed to deal with me… the way he’s acting around Harry? He used to do the same with me…” Clint glanced at the back of the caravan where Harry’s bedroom was, to see pictures taped to the door. The Halloween pictures plus one of Phil, Kari, Luna and Riddle. “He’s on Harry’s wall.”

“Hmmm?” Nat asked, tilting to the side to be able to see Harry’s bedroom door, only to see the pictures. “Oh… well that’s good, I think. It would be harder for you to court him if Sacha didn’t like him, wasn’t it?”

Clint blushed and glared at Nat who smirked back.

“Don’t say that.”

“What? That’s the real reason you returned back in time. Sure you love the kiddo, but the real reason you’re here is because of the man who is looking over your son as if he was the boy’s own father.”

Clint glared at Nat before looking at the bedroom door again.

“I can’t… even if he even retaliates my feelings… it will be seen as just as if I’m with him because he looks like The Philip.”

Nat chuckled.

“The irony part that this is the real Phillip…” She commented before standing. “We should go get Sacha while pretending that we do not like to see the two together.”

Clint nodded and the two left the caravan, jumped into the bike and drove to the best looking diner in town. Clint waited for Nat to leave from behind him, looking into the windows to see his Chick talking with Phil with a huge smile in place.

“Are you coming?”

“Hmmm? Yeah.” Clint parked the bike and followed Nat inside as the woman approached Harry at once, starting to fuss over him and how they had been worried.

“Auuuunttttt.” Harry hissed embarrassed. “I wouldn’t have left so early if you two had remembered to buy milk and cereals like I told you…. last week.”

Last week? Had it been that long since Clint went grocery shopping?

Clint dared a look at Phil Coulson. The reason why his head had not been all right for the last couple of weeks. The reason why he had come back in time… and the person he couldn’t even speak to. He had to look like a fool and the worst Dad ever to the man… most likely Phil would even want to take Harry from him if he ever really did become a SHIELD agent…

“Let’s go, Harry.” Clint turned and left the diner.

The diner door opened behind him and Clint turned to grab Harry’s hand, only to see that Phil had followed him. Harry looked at Phil and then at Clint confused, not really understanding what was going on, he had a book on his hand that he was holding onto. Clint grabbed Harry’s shoulder and pulled him down the road and away from Phil Coulson. Damn, Nat was right… it was too early… he couldn’t even think straight when looking at the man without his mask on!

“There’s a grocery store couple blocks away. Do you want me to give you a ride?” Clint tensed when even before he could argue Harry had already agreed. “I’ll fetch Lola.”

Clint froze only to see Harry look at him hopeful.

“Henry…” Clint hissed under his breath.

“Why is this one any different than the others?” Harry hissed back. “If it had been any other you would be jumping to let him walk around us. Why is this one any different?”

“Why are you suddenly so acquaint on hooking me up? I thought you didn’t like me hanging around look alikes.”

“Maybe because this is the first one who actually likes me. Who doesn’t treat me like shit and who isn’t with you for a quickie.” Harry turned when a car stopped by the side and jumped to the back seat. “He isn’t here for your pants, Dad. He’s here to hire you.”

Clint tensed going deep red, unable to actually look at the man behind the wheel.

“Henry!” he hissed.

“They do are some nice pants… but they would not fit me I’m afraid.” The other male argued with amusement, bringing Clint’s attention back to him. “Do remember there is a door in the car, will you?”

Clint looked down at the car and then nodded, opening the door before entering and seating by his side.

“I don’t think any of my clothes would look good on you, anyway.” Clint argued, bringing a chuckle from the agent as he drove. He really was a younger version from the Phil he knew. “Besides… Philip was way older than you.”

“Was he now…? Wouldn’t that make him paedophile or something? I mean you were barely off age when you adopted Harry.” Phil asked, looking at Clint surprised.

“He was in his late forties when he died… and he never looked at me like that. I was just that impertinent brat that he handled.” Clint argued, looking away from the man at his side.

Harry snorted in the back seat, only for Clint to turn to glare at him.

“Late forties… good thing I’m only 31 then.”

“Only?” Harry asked, approaching the first row seats.

“Yes, I am young. I had only managed to enter the agency when I was given your Father’s case… the fact that your Father was able to recognise me might have helped me in my climbing in the ladder.” Phil turned towards Clint “So thank you for that.”

“Recognise you?”

“You said my name, before your brother appeared.” Phil explained, making Clint go deep red and Harry chuckle into his hand. “Here we are.” Phil parked and left the car, opening his door for Harry.

Harry got out without arguing, Clint followed them a little taken aback by the man’s easy moving into their little family. The three entered the local store and immediately Clint grabbed hold into a basket and moved away to fill it with what was needed.

**(TBC)**


	14. Chapter XII  –Joining Forces–

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **B** **eta:** none
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter or Marvel or any of the characters from the books or movies, they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee. I also do not make any money from the writing of this story.
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** one sided ClintB/PhilC
> 
>  **Warnings in this chapter:** AU fanfiction, Crossover, time travel,
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  2,250
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Talking"
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Chapter XII**

**–Joining Forces–**

31 July, 1995

Harry looked at Dad moving away in the rows of groceries confused at the way Dad acted around Phil.

“I think your father doesn’t like me much.” Phil commented, pulling Harry by the side to where the comics stand was. “Are you too old for comic books?”

“No, why?”

Phil started to look over the comics on display.

“I remember you mentioned about that Halloween costume and thought…” Phil finally grabbed one and offered Harry. Harry picked it confused, only for his eyes to grow. “Did you really believe that a national hero wouldn’t be turned into a comicbook?”

Harry blushed and picked it up, starting to look it over.

“Wow… did he really do all these things?”

“Not really, but it helps for America image.” Phil answered making Harry laugh. “Why do you tease your Dad with the idea of me and him being together?”

Harry looked up from the comicbook and then back towards the place where Dad had stopped in whatever he was about to pick to look at the two with want in his look, only to pretend it wasn’t happening.

“Because you’re the first man he actually looked at that doesn’t look at me as if I’m garbage… that isn’t with Dad just for a quickie one in the dark alley against the wall.”

“How can you be so sure that after I get your Dad at the agency I won’t just ship you up to Australia?”

Harry chuckled to himself, mock glaring at the amused Phil.

“Besides you’re not the kind for a quickie one against the wall in a dark alley. Not even for a one-night stand. You aren’t the type.”

Phil smiled and Harry noticed he had been picking more comics from the stand from Captain America.

“What tells you that your Father is my type? Maybe that’s why I haven’t went with him into a dark alley.”

Harry snorted at the mental image.

“Maybe you just haven’t do it yet because you two aren’t together yet…” Phil glanced at Harry raising an eyebrow. “You are more the marriage type person than _a quickie with someone I don’t know_ one.” Harry shrugged. “I like that in you.”

Phil smiled back and looked to the place Harry’s Dad was looking at the cereal’s packages.

“Your Dad is afraid what the agency will do to you if he would to accept my proposition.” Harry hummed. “That is part of the reason he is avoiding me and filling himself with work.” Harry glanced at Dad surprised. That explained why suddenly Dad had been working so hard… barely sleeping… “Had I not been a look alike… would you still talk with me?”

“Wha…” Harry turned confused. “I never met The Philip. Dad only adopted me later. In my adoptions papers I was given his name because of him. There is no picture of him, only Dad’s memories and the look alikes. Sure you look alike… but only to my Father. To me you are only the man who barged into our lives and insists on making sure I eat.”

Phil nodded his head thankfully.

“Do you want to buy that?”

Harry turned to see that Dad was ready, looking down he remembered the comicbook. Right…

“I’ll buy it.” Phil replied picking the comic book from Harry and joining the others he already had picked.

Dad frowned.

“And why is that?”

“Because what else could I offer your Son on this special day?”

Clint frowned looking at Harry.

“But it’s not early march… nor late October…”

“It’s late July, Dad… it’s my birthdate.”

Clint tensed, his eyes growing.

“Oh… but we never… why the sudden desire to celebrate it this year?”

“Riddle was here.”

Comprehension appeared on the man’s face and he nodded.

“Of course he did. He gave you a gift then?”

“Coming of age book, he called it.” Clint raised an eyebrow. “A book about grey and how much it changes our cores.” He explained, looking sideways to Phil.

Clint nodded pulling Harry to the counter so they would pay.

“And me thinking he was intending on pulling you to the more darker materials.”

“According to him my core is too light in birth for me to fully be able to do the darker. He prefers a Grey pupil than a Light one.” Harry answered, helping Dad put the things in the shopping bags. “But then again, that was the aim wasn’t it? Keeping me in grey grounds. Keeping me out of the… British fight.”

Dad nodded paying the teen behind the counter. The two waited for Phil as he paid before the man picked the shopping bags and gave Harry the pack of Captain America comic books he had bought. Harry looked up surprised.

“I already have the whole collection, what? you thought I was buying for myself?”

“Bu…”

“It will be educational.” Phil replied.

Harry looked at Dad unsure of what to do, but the man was looking at the pack of comic books and controlling himself from laughing at an inner joke. At noticing Harry’s glace he coughed.

“You really do not need to pay Harry anything, Coulson.”

“I know. But I want to.” Phil replied setting the grocery bags in the back of the car. “Why do you keep calling me Coulson?”

“Isn’t that your name?” Dad asked with a shrug and copying him.

Harry sat on the car and as Dad made a move to copy him a hand grabbed him.

“My name is Phil.”

**–CH–**

Clint tensed as Phil grabbed him, unable to look away. How the hell did he think he would be able to control himself? He couldn’t think, he couldn’t act, he couldn’t…

“Harry…” he finally mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Get out, we’re walking home.”

“Bu…”

Clint forced himself to release himself from Phil’s hand and grabbed the groceries.

“Now, Henry Barton!”

Chick got out of the car dejectedly and picked the rest of the groceries and followed Clint down the road. Phil didn’t make a move to follow them, what Clint was grateful for. The two arrived the caravan and Chick entered going to save the groceries without even looking or talking with Clint. Nat raised an eyebrow at the silent treatment.

“Phil.” Clint answered before popping into the car they had, understanding look appeared on the woman. “You’re coming or not?”

Nat nodded, grabbing the bike and putting it inside the caravan before finally entering the car and letting Clint drive without arguing.

“Where we’re heading?” Nat asked after a while.

Clint shrugged.

**–CH–**

Harry hissed, putting all his things in his bag. He was tired and sick of his Dad’s change of humours. What was the man’s problem? Who did he think he was? Phil was only being nice! He…

Harry locked himself in the back bedroom as soon as the caravan stopped moving. There was a knock on the caravan before it opened.

“Chick. It’s night. We’re going to eat something, wanna come?”

Harry didn’t answer. There was a pause before Clint finally turned around and left. Harry heard him untroling the caravan from the car and then the sound of the car driving away. He waited a while longer before leaving his room and taking the bike out the caravan and driving away.

**–CH–**

Clint arrived the caravan and went to check Harry, it looked like he had taken the bike outside, but he had his door locked already. It was most likely late. Clint glanced at Nat as she prepared the couches for them to sleep in. The woman didn’t even argue. Harry was a fifteen years old teenager. It would be strange if he wouldn’t start acting like this…

**–CH–**

Harry cried. It hurt. It hurt everywhere. It hurt. His whole body hurt… he wanted Dad. He wanted auntie. Why did it hurt so much? Why were they doing this to him? He wanted his Dad so much… DAD… AUNT… PHIL… somebody… please…

**–CH–**

1 August, 1995

Clint looked up and immediately saved the files, stood and left the caravan and looked at Phil with a raised eyebrow, as the agent parked the car.

“Where is Harry?” he asked.

Phil frowned.

“He isn’t with you?” the agent asked.

“No… he left early and went to you… right?” Clint tensed and looked at Nat.

The two shared a look.

“The bike.” Nat mumbled and moved around the caravan until she found the tracks. “Here… he probably left still last night.”

Clint ran to the car and opened the gloves compartment, taking his gun out.

“We’re going on my car. It’s the faster.” Phil said. Clint and Nat opened their mouths to argue but the agent turned towards them with a glare. “My Car… NOW!”

Clint and Nat tensed and moved to the red Chevrolet.

“You sure can pick them.” Nat whispered.

Phil got into the wheel and drove after the bike tracks.

“Black Widow, can you see the tracks from your window?” Nat put her head from the outside and nodded. “Warn me if it changes positions.”

“Yes, sir.”

Phil opened the gloves compartment and took two guns, passed one to Nat who didn’t even argue and then another to Clint.

“Set it up for me.”

Clint and Nat shared a look before Clint got the guns ready and made sure it was filled with bullets.

“Turn here.” Nat said and Phil turned his wheel. “Stop.”

The three got out of the car and approached the ambush that had happened in there. Clint looked at his bike. Harry loved that bike… Clint punched the ground.

“Fuck, Harry. Who the hell did you managed to find this time?”

“This time?”

Clint turned with a glare at Phil.

“Last time he ran away… he bumped into my brother who persuaded me to give him up for the boy’s own good. Harry has a tendency for trouble. Harry…” Clint turned so his tears wouldn’t be visible.

“We’ll find him, Hawkeye.” Nat argued. “Coulson what do you have in that trunk of yours?”

Clint heard them move, approaching the car in order to give him some space. Clint was grateful for Nat for that. Clint looked at the ground trying to read what he was seeing.

“It was a group… they had a truck… he…”

“He’s alive.” Nat finished for him. “I see you’ve been studying.” The woman added. Clint turned to glare at her only to see her kneeling before the bike and fixing the bike at the best of her capabilities. “I’ll go ahead on the bike. You’ll follow me in the car. I know you want to find him. But I’m the best tracker.”

Clint bit his tongue to restrain his argue. Nat was right. Clint nodded and approached the car without argument. Clint glanced at Phil and he got in.

“Won’t your boss not approve if he’ll find out you’ll helping us?”

“Already called him saying that there is a possibility of a kidnapping. That I was helping Hawkeye and Black Widow to get Chick Sasha back.” Clint turned wide eyed. “I said that even if he wouldn’t approve I was going to do it.” Phil added.

“What did he say to that?” Clint wondered, the Fury he knew would never had agreed to help a ‘rogue agent’.

“That as far as he know there is no agent on the field helping Hawkeye and Black Widow.” Phil answered and they heard the sound of the bike starting, Phil grabbed his wallet and took his barge out and saved it in the glove compartment. “No agent today. Only a civil helping you find Harry.”

Clint nodded and Phil drove after Nat.

“Thank you.”

“I like the kid… how good is Black…”

“Her name is Natasha Romanoff.”

“How good is Romanoff?”

“The best. If someone can track them, is her.”

“You’re a marksmen, am I right?”

Clint nodded, only for Phil to point at the backseat. Clint turned only for his eyes to grow at the riffle.

“That’s for me?”

“We may never know what we need… just in case.” Phil frowned confused before peeking at Clint. “Did Harry took his staff?”

“He never goes anywhere without it.”

Phil nodded.

“That’s what I feared… I found him because of that…”

Clint’s eyes grew.

“My Brother taught him how to use it… he used it to win money at the carnival, right?” Phil nodded. “Damn it, Barney! Of course you took advantage of someone like that… they found Harry because of his… speciality with the staff and their way to make sure it’s him it’s his staff.”

“They’ll be expecting you.”

“And Black Widow.” Clint finished, looking at Nat as she tracked down the trunk. “I’ve no idea who we’re tracking. I’ve killed too many people by now. We both did. There’s the whole Russian agency. There’s a lot of people.”

“We need the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division help.” Phil said.

Clint wondered how the man had managed to say the whole mouthful with a straight face… but, then again, it was Phil Coulson.

“Call your director. Tell him…”

**(TBC)**


	15. Chapter XIII  –Out of the Frying Pan–

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:**  none
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter or Marvel or any of the characters from the books or movies, they belong to J. K. Rowling and to Stan Lee. I also do not make any money from the writing of this story.
> 
>  **Pairings in this chapter:** ClintB/PhilC
> 
>  **Nr words in this chapter:**  2,016
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Talking"
> 
> _"Talking in another language than English"_
> 
> 'Thinking'
> 
> –Parseltongue–
> 
> _Dream/Memory/Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper_
> 
> Time change/Date of time

**Chapter XIII**

**–Out of the Frying Pan–**

Tuesday, 1 August, 1995

Harry heard a commotion outside his cell, because that’s where he was. It had to be.

His Dad had arrived…

“It looks like you’re Daddy finally arrived.” The man that had just been torturing Harry just for the hell of it, said amused. “Don’t worry you’ll be joining him no time…”

Harry turned to glare but his body didn’t allow it. It was too maimed. Too hurt. He wasn’t used to it like Dad and Aunt. He…

There was a knock on the door. His torturer went to open it, Harry heard him speak with whoever was on the other side before suddenly a shot was heard. Harry jumped on his place. Only to then hear a body fell down. Someone approached and Harry tried to crawl away. A hand touched his shoulder, making him shiver.

“Don’t touch me!” he hissed.

“Hush, Harry. It’s me.”

Harry stopped in his struggle, looked up and found Phil close enough for him to see. Finally, Harry let his tears fall down.

“I didn’t say anything. I didn’t… I didn’t give them that pleasure.”

Phil smiled, kneeling down before him.

“You did great, Harry. Now let’s take you off these shackles and get you home.”

“I… they broke my… they did thin… I don’t want Dad to see me…”

Phil nodded and took his jacket off putting it around Harry’s naked body. Harry tried to argue but Phil didn’t let him. He took the cuffs from Harry’s wrists and heels before picking Harry up bridal-style and getting out of the cell. Outside there were three people in suits just like Phil.

“That’s the kid?” one of them asked, to which Phil nodded. “I can carry him, I’m…” the figure proposed, approaching.

“It’s my burden.” Phil argued as Harry shivered against his body. “Just make sure we aren’t stopped. I don’t think he would handle a bath of blood.”

The figure’s head turned towards Harry, before Harry thought he saw him nod at Phil.

“You heard him, lasses. Pick the lad’s things and let’s go.” The Agent said as he picked something from the floor. Harry noticed it being a huge jacket. The man approached and put it over Harry. “You’ll safe now, Lad.” The Agent promised before walking away, escorting them out the facility.

**–CH–**

Phil sat on the hallway seats, looking at the closed door of the infirmary.

“The lad with be okay, Phil.”

“He’s just 15, John!” Phil argued.

Even the day before being captured he had been celebrating his birthday…

“Where is he?”

Phil tensed as Clint came running down the corridor, most likely just returning from the scene. Clint’s eyes landed on the closed door of the infirmary and John stopped him from entering.

“Calm down, Barton. Trust me, you don’t want to enter in there. That’s not how you want to see your kid.”

“Don’t even dare to tell me what to do, Garret.” Clint hissed, ready to pick a fight with the other agent.

“Harry doesn’t want you to see him like this.” Phil interrupted.

Clint stopped dead and turned, his eyes in question dreading the question but even so making it. Phil nodded and John had to grab Clint before he would fall on the floor.

“Chick…”

“They also broke his arms and legs… I already called his tutor. He sent his own doctors right away. They’ll inside with him right now.”

Clint nodded as John forced him on a chair.

“Wha… What did Riddle…”

“He’s furious. He’s inside right now. Something about his core?” Clint nodded, putting his head in his hands. “It’s not your fault, Barton.”

Clint snorted.

“If I had never adopted him he would be living with his abusive uncles, but at least there something like this wouldn’t have happened to him.”

“You have a strong lad.” John argued. “He only cried when he saw Philip here, he didn’t break under their attacks and he didn’t say anything he shouldn’t. Not many children his age would do that. No child raised in unloved family would be able to withhold like that. Ask the lad what he would prefer, I’m certain he’ll choose you anytime.”

Clint stood and made a move to leave when the infirmary door opened. Phil looked to see Riddle in there.

“Barton.” Clint tensed and turned. “He wants to see you.”

Clint nodded and Phil stood approaching the door as Clint entered and approached his son on the hospital bed.

“Hey Chick…”

“Dad… I’m sorry.”

“For what, Kiddo?”

“Running away again.”

Phil closed the infirmary’s doors as tears appeared on Clint’s eyes.

“Thank you for calling me, Coulson.”

Phil nodded and Riddle turned around, leaving.

“That kid is one of a kind. No parent in their right mind would ground a kid for running away if they were captured and tortured.” John commented.

“Harry isn’t the usual kind.” Phil agreed. “Thank you for coming so fast.”

John shrugged.

“As if I would _leave you_ in the hand, Phil.” Phil smiled, before looking at the door where Clint and Harry were behind. “I heard the others commenting… is it true that Barton has a thing for you and that’s why he let you catch him?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Oh come on, Phil. You’ve practically already adopted his kid. Are you telling me you don’t feel anything for the father? That you don’t swing that way?”

**–CH–**

Thursday, 3 August, 1995

“Dad?”

Phil looked up and grabbed Harry’s hand at once.

“I’m here, Harry. We’re moving to the headquarters.”

Harry nodded and held unto Phil’s hand like a life saviour. Phil had no idea what those doctors had done to the teenager, but they had fixed his bones in a minute and he was thankful for that, calling Master Riddle had been the best thing he had possibly done. He looked up to where Clinton and Romanoff were on the cockpit of the plane. Sure Clint was a young father and he had a lot of flaws, but to see the way he had worried about Harry… to see the way he was at loss without the child…

“I’m his good thing.” Phil peeked at Harry who had followed Phil’s glance, when had the lad put on his glasses? “Aunt said that. That I keep Dad grounded and that without me he would be a lot worse.”

Phil smiled and nodded. Harry was right. He _was_ Clint’s good thing. Just the thought of Harry being hurt had turned Clint’s mind into dust. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t rationalize, he had to be ordered what to do… _how_ to do…

Phil knew he was starting to win feelings for Clint. The issue was Clint looked at him and thought of his old mentor. That was why Clint avoided Phil like the plague, that was why he acted so dumbly around him… most likely the reason Clint had even been neglecting Harry…

“Phil?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Can I call you Papa… or Father?”

Phil looked at Harry wide eyed.

“I… it’s a little early for that don’t you think?”

“I don’t want to miss you now that Dad’s an agent.”

Phil sighed and kissed Harry’s forehead.

“I’ll always visit you.”

“Promise?”

Phil nodded and Harry closed his eyes, laying on his side and holding unto Phil’s hand against his chest. Phil waited until he fell asleep before he released himself, took out the glasses and stored them, he then stood and approached the cockpit and the two newest agents.

“How far are we from the Triskelion?”

“Not far, sir.” Romanoff answered.

Phil nodded looking out the windows into the clouds.

“Harry awoke?” Clint asked.

“Yes, but he fell asleep again.”

“How is he?”

“Scared. Don’t want to be left behind.”

“Nothing changed then.” Romanoff commented. “Sacha has abandonment issues, because of being an adopted child. Plus, being left behind in the circus without even a goodbye from this Idiotic here.”

“Hey… it wasn’t _my_ fault.” Clint hissed.

“You still left him with your brother. Why, Sacha doesn’t know. What he knows is that _you_ did.”

Clint grumbled.

“I won’t abandon him ever again. That was my biggest mistake… and I’ve done my quail fair of mistakes. You, of all people, should know that!”

“Like adopting a child when you were barely 18?” Romanoff pointed out.

Clint huffed.

“That wasn’t a mistake. That was the best thing that I ever did in my life of mistakes.”

Phil smiled. It was good to know that Barton had long passed his idea of giving Harry away. After all… he wouldn’t last an hour without the boy.

**–CH–**

Tuesday, 8 August, 1995

Harry glanced at Dad and Auntie as the two trained in the headquarters of Phil’s agency. He shivered at feeling the Agents talking between themselves and pointing at him. Only to, suddenly, a spear missed both the talking agents’ heads by inches, right in between both of them. Them and Harry turned, only to see Dad glaring at the two.

“Stay away from him!”

Harry blushed, lowering his head embarrassed.

**–CH–**

“That one is going to be trouble.” John pointed out as Clint just attacked two agents three levels higher than him.

“You saw how he reacted to the boy’s torture, do you really find it that odd that he’ll be over protective?” Phil argued, returning to the paperwork of Harry’s abduction.

John looked back with an amused look.

“So that’s how it going to be?” Phil glanced up with a raised eyebrow. “You’re just going to pretend now that you got them in the agency that you don’t care?”

“I’m still seeing Harry.” John gave him a pointed look. “Relationship between agents are forbidden, you know that. Besides, I’m not a replacement.”

John snorted.

“Didn’t Fury himself told _you_ to court him?”

“Into the agency.” Phil argued with a glare, that clearly said it’s final, to his old comrade-in-arms John Garret, who as a reply raised his hands.

Phil looked through the window to where Clint had started fighting the two agents. This is what he did for a living. No feelings attached.

**–CH–**

Tuesday, 29 August, 1995

Harry sat on his new room at the headquarters. He missed the caravan. He missed the road. He missed…

Harry hugged his legs. Even though Phil guaranteed that he couldn’t be safer, he felt highly exposed. He couldn’t even do magic to relax himself. He couldn’t…

“Hey, laddie.” Harry glanced up to see Phil’s friend entering the room. “Doesn’t feel right, does it?”

“Wha…?”

The Agent pointed around the room.

“Too cold, too empty, too impersonal.” The man explained and Harry nodded. “Phil mentioned you lived on a caravan?” Harry nodded again. “Do you miss it?”

“Yeah…”

The Agent smiled.

“I’ll speak with Director Fury then, I’m certain he won’t object to have a free room…”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“Why… why are you doing this?”

“Don’t want your father to kill all of our freshmen’s now, do we?” the Agent teased back and Harry found himself snorting. “Much better. Now, more serious business; it is required (after what you went through) for the person to get evaluated and, even though you aren’t an agent, Director Fury still wants you to do it.”

“He wants me to see a shrink?” Harry asked wide-eyed.

“Yes, do you want to call your tutor so he gets you one or should I take you to one in the town?”

Harry looked down at his hands, biting his bottom lip.

“Riddle… mister?”

“Garrett, Agent John Garrett.” The Agent replied and offered Harry his own mobile phone, one of the new ones that Father said that a text message could be sent.

Harry dialled Riddle’s fireplace.

–What is it, Henry?–

–Dad’s Agents wants me to see a psychiatrist… a mind…–

–I know what a psychiatrist is, Young Henry. I’ll see to it right away.–

As soon as Riddle cancelled the call, Harry deleted the number before he returned the phone. If Agent Garret noticed his action, he didn’t mention it, which Harry was thankful for.

“I’ll go see about that caravan.”

Harry nodded thankfully and Garrett left.

**(TBC)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi
> 
> I know, short chapter, but this is where I hit my hiatus on this fic, so as I rechecked the chapter, I added a few details and decided to post it as it is, as next chapters will most likely have a time jump
> 
> Before anyone comments, there is no rape in this story
> 
>  **Next:** … who knows? XD
> 
> ~Isys

**Author's Note:**

> Ps: If you want to keep updated on my fanfics or just talk to me or give me suggestions: **www(doc)facebook(doc)com/IsysSkeeterFanfiction**  
> 
> 
> ****


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